


King of Erebor

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Consent Issues, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secret Identity, Trust Issues, actually everyone has issues that's it that's the fic, alternative universe, awkward courting, being king is hard work, families, technically complete but I might still write on it, well it's a secret to Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori is king of Erebor<br/>Thorin is a librarian.<br/>Their families are annoying.<br/>And Erebor gets in the way of their dates.<br/>Nothing's really changed, in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. courting

**Author's Note:**

> first chapter originally posted in "prompt and ficlets", because it turns out I really like this AU?  
> I don't really have any plans for it yet, but we'll find something!:)  
> And once again, this doesn't have a plot, it's probably just going to be slices of life, to be updated with the greatest irregularity ever, be warned :)

“You boys are idiots,” Thorin growled, “and you’re lucky to be my nephews or you would be in great trouble. What have I told you about pranking people in my library?”

“To… not… do it?” Fili suggested after exchanging a quick look with his brother. “But it’s not what you…”

“That lad is of noble blood, too!” their uncle continued. “Haven’t you noticed his clothes, the way he walks, the way he talks? He could get you in terrible troubles if he chosed to!”

The boys exchanged another look. They liked their uncle, they really did, but he was really clueless sometimes. He had to be the only one to not have noticed who really was the young dwarf who always found new excuses to visit the library and to ask Thorin questions.

He was the only one not to know, and they had all agreed to not tell him and wait how long he’d need to understand.

“He wouldn’t do anything, uncle,” Kili laughed. “Not with the crush he has on you.”

Fili glared at him. They were supposed to tell him _that_ either. Though he forgave Kili, if only for the adorable way their uncle blushed and sputtered that they were entirely ridiculous.

“And even if he did, which certainly isn’t the case, that doesn’t mean you can prank the poor boy. He seems shy enough as it is, no need for you to make it worse. I want you to apologize to him next time he comes, are we clear?”

The boys nodded.

Step 4521586 of plan “let’s hook up uncle Thorin with the King” had failed. As had all the others before it.

* * *

 

Dori dropped a dozen large, dusty smelling books in front of Ori, looking terribly proud of himself. Well, he could be, his young brother thought. These books sure looked heavy, it couldn’t have been easy to carry them all that way.

“I’ve brought you some light reading,” Dori announced.

“This looks like many things, but not light, not in any sense of the word. What are they?”

“Courting guidelines.”

Ori groaned. Not that again.

“You’re the king, my boy!” Dori reminded him, taking one of the books and opening it at random. “You cannot keep going to that library and hope that this dwarf will miraculously notice you. It’s not proper. You should go to him, and state your intent to court him, as would be more fitting to your position.”

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“You are the king, how could he not like you?”

“Lots of people don’t like me but they pretend they do because I’m the king. What if he did the same and he hated me but pretended not to just because I’m powerful and you can’t say no to me?”

Dori rolled his eyes as if the idea were ridiculous. Only, it wasn’t. Ori had learned long ago that people were ready to take advantage of him if he gave them the chance, and that his position was very easy to abuse. There had been a girl he’d liked when he was a child, and for three years she had not dared to admit that she didn’t like him back at all. That had taught him caution, and he’d decided to concentrate on his duties. Kept him busy enough, and he didn’t need anything else, he really didn’t.

Or more exactly, he hadn’t, not until a visit to the library had allowed him to meet master Thorin.

Master Thorin who was stern and strict yes, but oh-so-handsome and very kind when he wanted to (and he _always_ wanted to with Ori) and he had a queer sense of humour and he was so clever and knew so many things, and…

And he didn’t know that Ori was the King. A fact that Ori didn’t felt ready to change just yet.

The closest Thorin had ever come to noticing was him pointing out that he had ‘the same name as the king’, and Ori had quickly taken care of that by pointing out that the name had become a popular one after the birth of the crown prince.

He knew he’d have to tell him eventually, if things worked out. But things weren’t working out so far, because Ori was stupidly shy in private and Thorin was… probably interested, but not making any move. Ori suspected him to be just as shy as he was. An idea that shouldn’t have been adorable, but still was. Thorin was so tall and looked so fierce, he would certainly have made a great warrior, so imagining him embarrassed about anything was… cute.

“Really, Ori, how long are you going to keep mooning over that librarian?” Dori sighed. “There are so many ways to make you interest known! Look, here!” he said, showing him a book called ‘the noble art of romance’. “You could go and compliment him on his craft, before giving him a small but meaningful present that would help him for his work.”

“Dori, this isn’t the 25th century! I would look stupid if I did that!”

“That’s how your father courted mother, you know.”

“Well, that does sort of prove my point about it being old fashioned, doesn’t it?”

“Whereas going there every other day to ask for rare books is _such_ a great tactic,” Dori sniffed with disdain. “But you don’t like that, you could go and see his family, ask them permission to formally court him? Now that seems like a perfect way to do this, they will certainly know if he likes you, and you will know straight away if they agree with such an alliance.”

Ori thought of Thorin’s nephew, who kept teasing him about his crush and tried to push him in their uncle’s arms, and of Thorin’s sister, who encouraged her sons antics.

He didn’t _want_ to ask them about a formal courting.

“Maybe I should ask Nori?”

Dori glared at him. “Nori? Why would you ask Nori? He’s a shameless flirt who’s slept with half of Erebor! Why take advice from him?”

 _Because_ he was a shameless flirt who had slept with _more_ than half the kingdom.

Ori would have thought the answer was obvious.

* * *

 

“Grab him and kiss him, then fuck him behind a bookshelf.”

Ori blushed and stuttered at that.

Maybe Dori had been right, and he shouldn’t have asked Nori. Or at least, he should have expected the sort of answers he’d get.

“I’m a king, I can’t do that.”

“Well, too bad for you. It’s always worked for me. And I bet your librarian would like it. Seems like the kinky sort to me, but then again, it comes with the job. You can’t work with so many books and not be hiding a dirty side.”

“If you get anywhere near him, I’ll have you thrown in a dungeon,” Ori snapped. “I mean it. You will not ruin this!”

“Not like there’s much to ruin, is there?”

“Nori! I’m… I know you don’t give a damn that I’m your king, but I am your little brother so please, please, I’m begging you, don’t go and seduce the dwarf I like, please, if you like me just a little tiny bit, please?”

Nori gave him a pitiful look, his come-on-I-was-joking-please-tell-me-you-haven’t-spend-so-much-time-with-Dori-that-you-don’t-know-what-jokes-are-anymore look. Ori didn’t like that look. It usually meant that more teasing was coming, because Nori seemed to believe that king had to be teased a lot or they might take themselves too seriously.

It had made family gatherings so interesting when Ori’s father still lived.

This time though, Nori seemed in a better mood than usual, and his wolfish smirk turned into a much kinder smile than what Ori was used to.

“I won’t touch him, kid,” he promised. “But he’s handsome, so others might. You really should act, or someone else will catch him before you.”

“I know, I just… don’t know how!”

“Suggest a training session with him? He’s a good swordman, he trained for that when he was younger. He’ll appreciate the chance to go back to it, he hasn’t touched a sword in years.”

“I’m awful at fencing.”

“And he must be too, after fifty years. Come one, go and say you’d like to see his sword, I’m sure he’ll like it.”

Ori nodded. The idea seemed good enough.

* * *

 

He should have thought that Nori’s formulation left a lot to be desired. “show me your sword” was not as innocent a sentence as Ori would have thought it to be. At least, it made master Thorin blush terribly and grumble about propriety and say that it wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea, just that he preferred to take these things a little slower, really, make sure they really got along together before they jumped to that.

Ori too had turned red when he had realized what he had just offered.

But more importantly he realized that Thorin was refusing the rushed side of that offer, not the offer itself.

Ori had _known_ that asking Nori for help would be a good idea.

“M-May I then s-suggest we try to train together someday? Y-you know, fencing and the such. Actual fencing, I mean, not the… not the other kind! I… I’ve g-got a private training ground and it’d be nice and…”

“I’d be delighted,” Thorin assured him, taking one of his hands and smiling kindly. “Fencing with you would be… delightful.”

Ori smiled back.

That was step one accomplished, then. He had a date with Thorin.

Step two would be ‘by the way we’ve known each other for five years and I just realize that I’ve never mentioned I was the king of Erebor, silly me’, but that would wait of course.


	2. of kings and swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwarves dates are different and involve sharps things.

Twice Ori was forced to cancel his fencing session with Thorin because of unexpected changes in his schedule. The third attempt was the right one though, and one day after lunch he came to the library to pick up Thorin. Of course Fili and Kili were there (didn't they have a job of some sort? Ori needed to find them a job of some sort. Maybe he could make them lords of a very deep, very far away place in the mountain, and make sure they never again teased him) and as usual they made all sorts of inappropriate innuendos. They were so childish, really. Talking to them was just as bad as talking to Nori.

Thank the Maker, Thorin was just as eager as Ori to get away from these two imps, and so they quickly left together. On their way, they talked of a book the older dwarf had recommended, and discussed at length if the hero could really have done all the deeds listed. The librarian made no comment when their steps took them toward what was quite obviously the palace, nor did he say anything when the guards let them in through one of the back doors without even asking for their identity (and Ori was forever grateful that Dwalin had told the guards to keep silent. He would tell Thorin who he was. Some day. Just not _that_ day).

The training ground was ready (as Ori had requested) and empty (as Ori had also requested). When the young king went into the armoury and took one of his swords, Thorin's curiosity finally took over and he asked what job Ori had exactly.

“I server Erebor,” the young king answered evasively.

“Don't we all? But that's not the sword of just any servant of the realm, though the way you hold makes it clear you're used to it.”

He was. Sort of. He had trained a lot in the previous days so that he wouldn't look to ridiculous against Thorin.

“I was close to the old king,” Ori explained, and it wasn't really a lie, was it? “He rather liked me, and he made sure I was given a good position after his death. He... said I had worked hard enough, and that I deserved it. I'm not always so sure myself, but what's done is done.”

“He was a good king,” Thorin claimed. “I met him once when I was young, and he a was a just dwarf. It's a shame he died when his son was so young.”

“You... think king Ori isn't doing well, then?”

Some people did. Many people did. He was awfully young to be a king, and he still relied a lot on Dori and on their mother, and he knew some of the lords didn't take him very seriously because he wasn't much of a warrior and his father had died before he'd had a chance to prove himself. After ten years on the throne, people still saw him as a child.

It wouldn't be a surprise if Thorin was one of those people.

It would hurt, but it wouldn't be a surprise.

“He's not doing too bad I think,” Thorin said carefully, as if he'd sensed his tension. “For someone so young, he's even doing well, though he's not very bold, is he? He doesn't make many public apparitions, most people don't even know what he looks like. Fili works for him, he's in the guards, and he's never seen him.”

Not on duty at least, Ori mentally corrected. Fili knew _perfectly well_ who he was, as did Kili, and Dis.

And it was true that he didn't make many public apparitions, but these were so boring and uncomfortable. He could do his job without people staring at him. In fact, he did his job _much_ better without people looking at him. He always panicked when he had too many eyes on him.

“Who cared if he's not seen, as long as he does what he has to do?” Ori mumbled, picking a sword for Thorin (one that Dwalin had actually told him to pick, but no one needed to know that).

The librarian gave the blade an appreciative look, making a few moves with it before smiling.

“Good choice, my lad. And your question disappoints me, really. After all the reading you've done, you should know that a king is more than a dwarf who makes decisions, he is a symbol, the embodiment of the realm, and if he doesn't let his people see him, he might as well not be there at all and let bureaucrats do his job.”

“You sound like my brother.”

“Do I?” Thorin chuckled. “And from the way you frown, I take it that really isn't a good thing. How about we stop talking politic, which never brings anything good, and we try to have some fun instead?”

Nothing that involved sword could really seem fun to Ori, but Thorin had such a nice, warm smile that he still found himself nodding eagerly. He'd have agreed to much worse than that to see that smile directed at him.

It wasn't so bad, in the end. Ori wasn't much good, he knew it (he'd trained with the best sworddwarves in the kingdom, he _knew_ he was barely tolerable) but he still managed to hold his ground against Thorin.

The librarian still managed to disarm him in the end, but Ori wasn't about to complain about that. After disarming him, Thorin had pushed him against a wall, his sword against the young king's side.

“If this were a real fight, you would be dead,” he growled playfully, his deep voice sending shivers through Ori's spine.

“Good thing this isn't a real fight then. You are very good, I didn't expect... that is, librarian don't usually... well, you don't look like a librarian of course, but... it's... oh, I won't manage to say this in a way that isn't insulting, will I?”

Thorin laughed at that, and put his sword away for the king's waist.

“Don't worry, I know what you mean. I get that a lot. I wasn't always a librarian. I was in the king's guard when I was younger, but I was dismissed, and I had to find work where I could. The Head of the Library was a family friend, he gave me a chance.”

Ori wondered why anyone would have ever dismissed a dwarf as wonderful as Thorin, and if he was allowed to ask. It couldn't have been something really bad, or Nori would have told him, but it had still been bad enough that he'd not only left the king's guard, but not been able to work as a warrior at all and had been forced to count on someone he knew to have a job. That sounded like the offended ego of a lord to Ori.

“If that's any comfort, you make a wonderful librarian,” he mumbled.

“Thank you, my little lord. It is not the path I would have chosen, but it is one that has brought me great pleasure. And it allowed me to meet you. I cannot regret this, can I?”

Suddenly aware that Thorin was still very close to him, almost touching him but not quite, Ori blushed. He wondered if he should close what little space there was between them, or if he should let Thorin make the first step. Before he could decide, Thorin moved and kissed him. Immediately, the king threw his arms around the older dwarf's neck to drag him closer, to which Thorin answered by a happy grunt before throwing away his sword to grab Ori by the waist.

It was nice.

Or at least, nice was the only word Ori's brain still managed to find. Thorin's lips were nice, his tongue felt nice, his dark hair were nice under Ori's fingers, the skin of his neck was nice.

Everything was nice.

Of course it couldn't last.

Of course Nori had to ruin it all, the way he always ruined everything.

Ori felt like he might have a heart attack when he heard his brother call his name, and he hurriedly pushed Thorin away and jumped to the side to put as much distance between them as he could without looking like a complete idiot. Nori still smirked at him, of course.

He would never hear the end of that.

“Sorry to disturb you when you're so busy, kid,” Nori sniggered, “but you are needed. Dori's looking for you everywhere and I don't know how long Dwalin will resist before he tells him you're here, so you might want to come back quickly.”

“But he had agreed to give me the afternoon off!” Ori protested. It had taken him such long negotiations too. Making a deal with Dori was worse than talking with the elves.

“There's been... an emergency. You're needed, kid. Now.”

Ori sighed. He'd had plans for the rest of the afternoon ( _respectable_ plans, like having tea and talking about books, and maybe some kissing if Thorin had been amenable) but that would have to wait. Erebor needed him, and Erebor didn't wait.

“I'm really sorry,” he told Thorin. “It's just... you know. Work. But... but it was really nice, spending time with you. I hope we'll get to do it again?”

Thorin, who had been eyeing Nori suspiciously (something _everyone_ did when they first met him, even if they hadn't heard the rumours about the king's second brother) turned toward Ori and smiled, though that smile was nowhere near as charming and confident as the ones before.

“I understand perfectly well, my little lord. And I do hope too that we shall spend time together again. This was very... _nice_.”

Ori grinned at him foolishly, feeling like his heart might burst from sheer happiness.

“I'll take your friend back to the streets,” Nori said, “you'd better hurry. Dori was refusing tea when I left.”

“Oh, that's really _bad_!” his brother gasped, horrified. “I'll go straight away. Sorry again, master Thorin! I swear I'll come and see you again, I swear!”

He ran away then, hoping he'd find Dori before his brother could get angry.

Dori would never let him have any free time again if he didn't hurry back after all, and he wouldn't get to see Thorin as easily.

And that, really, would have been a shame.


	3. love and trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Ori try to date  
> and Thorin has to accept to make a few comprises  
> (aka suddenly this story turned to angst sorry?)

Thorin liked Ori, he really did. The lad might have been noble, but he was still good company, trying hard not to offend and always apologizing when he did. He was smart too, and adorably shy, with a very sweet little smile that Thorin wanted to kiss every time he saw it.

He liked Ori a lot.

He might even have loved him, if Ori hadn't been keeping secrets from him.

* * *

 

The young dwarf's main secret was his job, of course.

Ori, after ignoring the questions several times, had once admitted that he held a minor job in the Ereboran government. And indeed, he seemed to know a lot about politics, both within the mountain and concerning their neighbours, but as for the smallness of his job, that was more doubtful. Minor bureaucrats were not sent for by Lord Dori, the king's brother and main advisor. Minor bureaucrats were not on first name basis with Lord Nori, the king's other brother, who did _not_ run a secret network of spies and thieves. Minor bureaucrats didn't train with Lord Dwalin (and Thorin had trained with him often enough in his youth to recognize one of his students at once). Minor bureaucrats were not forced to regularly cancel their dates because work had gone 'a little crazy'.

Ori had cancelled three times after their first date, and Thorin had feared at first that the younger dwarf just didn't dare to tell him he wasn't interested after all. He should not have kissed him, no so soon, but Ori had looked so deliciously tempting, and Thorin was impulsive, that had always been his problem. He had learned long ago that nobles didn't see it as a quality, and yet once again he had failed to resist, which was going to cost him the first dwarf he had liked in decades.

“You worry too much,” Fili told him once. “I think he really is just busy. Lots of problems lately, I've heard. There's a rumour someone tried to kill the elves' ambassador, Lord Borin's got a couple strikes in his domain, and then there's the celebrations for the tenth anniversary of the king's coronation to prepare... the party's next summer, but they've got to start thinking of it.”

“And Ori is concerned with _all_ of this?”

Fili shrugged. “I guess, yeah. He's a very busy dwarf, and he runs around a lot.”

“You know what is job is, then?”

The young dwarf hesitated, the way he always did when his uncle started asking too many questions about Ori.

“I'm just a guard, you know,” he tentatively answered. “I make sure people don't get into place they're not supposed to go to, and that's it. I'm not told things. I see that your boyfriend is always doing a thousand things at once, and that's it.”

Thorin had not insisted, and he didn't ask again, but he had felt sure that his nephew was lying.

 

* * *

 

Ori's second secret concerned his refusal to go anywhere public. He claimed he had a dreadful fear of crowds, which Thorin had believed easily enough. His little dwarf was so nervous whenever the walked together in the street going from the library to the palace, jumping every time he heard voices near them.

The librarien had soon decided that he didn't mind: it gave him a perfect excuse to put an arm around Ori's shoulders to make him feel safer. Ori seemed to enjoy it too, and sometimes he would come close to Thorin as soon as they stepped outside, smiling bashfully and waiting for the older dwarf to touch him. He seemed so young in such moments that the librarian felt almost bad for wanting him, when his own nephews were older than the boy. But at the same time, there was a strange maturity in Ori, as if he'd been forced to grow very fast and had never been allowed to just be young and foolish before. He was so impossibly _cautious_ about everything he did.

 

* * *

 

That was Ori's third secret. He was careful not only about the things he said, but also about the things he did. The most hurtful consequence of it, as far as Thorin was concerned, was that Ori never made the first step to touch him, no matter how much he seemed to want to sometimes.

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me,” Thorin requested one day, while they enjoyed each other's company after one of their sword fights.

“It doesn't. I like touching you. I like it a _lot_!”

“Then why...”

“I'm not very good at... telling when _other people_ like it,” Ori blurted, twisting his fingers and looking away. “It's... been a problem in the past, and it's brought bad things to me. I had... a friend, and I didn't... see things until it was almost to late, and I... I think I hurt her, even if I didn't want to and... I can't risk that again.”

“I would _tell_ you if you did anything that I didn't like,” Thorin protested, not daring to ask details. “And do you really think you could ever force me? All the times we've fought, you've never won, have you?”

Ori didn't answer, but there was something both frightening and heartbreaking in his sad smile.

Thorin had seen other young noble boys smile like that in the past, when he was still in the king's guard, and it reminded him of rumours he'd heard then. Dwalin had never lived through that, but they'd known dwarves their age forced to hurt or betray their own friends, for the sake of their parents' reputation, and he'd always hated it.

Thorin, once more, had decided not to insist. Ori would talk in his own time, or not at all.

* * *

 

But then, there was the incident at the tavern.

* * *

 

It had taken Thorin weeks to convince Ori to come with him at that tavern instead of once again hiding in a deserted corner of the palace as they always did. The Snugly Duckling was a nice and quiet place, owned by immigrants from Ered Luin, the food was great, the regulars were a fun bunch, and the barman was an old friend.

“You've got so many friends!” Ori had laughed.

Thorin hadn't known how to answer that. Outside his family, he had exactly three friends: Oin, the head of the Library, his old shield-brother Dwalin, and Bofur from the tavern. He knew that wasn't much. He nephews had friends everywhere they went, and Dis divided her free time between a least a dozen people. Thorin didn't have many friends, but now that he thought about it, he'd never heard Ori mention any friends at all, only people he worked with.

“You'd like Bofur,” he said in the end. “Everyone likes him. He's got one of these personalities, friendly with everyone. He jokes a little too much, and not always in good taste, but you'd get used to it. Everyone does.”

“He sounds nice,” Ori admitted. “But I don't know if... My mother would probably not approve of me going to a tavern.”

Thorin smirked at that, pulling him into his arms. “And at seventy, do you still do all that your mothers requests of you, me little lord?” he asked, leaning until his lips almost touched the younger dwarf's. He could feel the fight inside Ori, his desire to kiss him losing as usual against his terror of doing something unwanted.

“Usually, I am obedient,” Ori mumbled. “But you do seem to turn me into a very naughty son. You make me want to do things that my mother really wouldn't approve of at all.”

The older dwarf chuckled at that, and kissed him. As was to be expected, Ori immediately threw his arms around Thorin's neck, kissing back with a passion that left the librarian breathless, as it always did.

In the end, Ori agreed to come, but warned that he would wear a hood on the way there (nothing unusual there, he often did) and that he would keep it inside.

“Makes me feels safer,” he muttered, staring at his boots. “It's the only way I can be in public.”

“I may be overstepping here,” Thorin said carefully, “but I think you should try to fight back against your issues. You cannot live in fear for the rest of your life, and I would be willing to help, if you'd allow it.”

Thorin wanted to help him, he really did. He'd have taken any excuse to spend more time with the lad, and he reasoned that Ori would eventually have to actually talk about himself if they were to work on his fear of crowds.

Thorin liked him, but after nearly six months of seeing each others, that lack of trust on the boy's end was becoming painful.

“Maybe one day,” Ori answered with that smile of his that meant never. “I suppose I'll have to one day, won't I? But not today. I've got to go back, or I'll be late for my appointment of tonight, and my mother would never forgive me. I'll let you know when we can go to that tavern of yours!”

He then leant toward Thorin, waiting for the older dwarf to give him a good bye kiss, after which he ran away.

In the end, it took them two months to go out together again.

Ori kept suggesting dates, before cancelling them at the last moment, either in person or more often by sending a letter. Thorin couldn't find it in him to be angry at him, not with how tired he looked the few times he managed to come to the library for a few minutes. And when at last came a day when Ori's mysterious job didn't force him to cancel, the lad looked so ready to pass out from exhaustion that Thorin tried to suggest he should go home and sleep instead. Ori firmly refused.

“I've got a chance now, I'm not letting it slip away, or it might not come back. Come on, let's go! And quickly, before something happens again and Nori drags me back to that blasted palace. I _need_ a break.”

He looked like he needed _sleep_ , and at least a week of it, Thorin thought, though he didn't say it. There was something queer about Ori that afternoon, something that made him hard and determined where he was usually so soft and deliciously bubbly. It wasn't that Thorin didn't like that new side of the young dwarf (it was nice to see him so _confident_ ), but he'd never have expected it.

He was still Ori, though. Even tired and determined, he still couldn't bring himself to touch Thorin: he did move to take the other dwarf's hand, but stopped himself at the last moment, waiting for Thorin to cross the last few inches.

The Snugly Duckling wasn't far away from the library (that was how Thorin had discovered it) but on the way there, Ori, sweet, soft, kind little Ori, managed to drop more insults against the elves that Thorin had ever heard in his life (and he'd heard a few in his youth). It seemed king Thranduil was in part responsible for how busy the younger dwarf had been over the last few weeks.

Why Ori had to deal with the elf king, Thorin didn't know, and considering the way the lad's lips twisted every time he said the elf's name, he dared not ask.

He personally didn't have any hatred of the elves, to be honest. The few he'd encountered had been decent enough, and there was a young one who came regularly to the library whom he rather liked. He was a queer, tall thing, but very keen on learning about dwarvish lores... especially when Oin's nephew was aroud, it seemed.

They made a sweet couple the two of them, though he doubted they realized it yet. Some people took a long while to realize they were attracted to each other.

Once they entered the tavern, Ori's angry rambling against the 'pointy eared bastards' came to a stop, and he tightened his grip on Thorin's hand to the point pf near pain. There were more people than expected, and more noise too, but Bofur had stoll managed to keep them a table in a quiet corner.

"And that's that's yer little friend, eh?" Bofur asked, looking at Ori. "Why's he hiding his face like that? Is he ugly or something?"

"Just shy," Thorin replied, running his thumb again the back of Ori's hand to calm him. "He's actually so handsome that if anyone in here so him, they'd try to steal him from me and I'd be forced to kill them."

"Might still be worth a try. And what will yer pretty boyfriend drink then? Feels like a mead type to me. What d'ye say to that, laddie?"

Ori just nodded quickly. He seemed so terrified that Thorin lost no time in taking him to their table, asking Bofur to send their drinks there. Even once they were seated, the young dwarf remained stiff, darting worried looks everywhere. Thorin dragged his chair closer to take Ori's hand again, and he suggested once more that they went somewhere else.

“You don't seem at ease here, and I want us to have fun. I appreciate that you made an effort for my sake, but if being here makes you unhappy...”

“I'm fine!” Ori snapped, but he quickly squeezed Thorin's hand in apology. “Sorry, I'm just... I'm a little tense. It's been a bad day, but I really want to try this, to be with you... I know it can't be fun to always do the same thing in the same place, as I've forced you to...”

“I do not mind. Anything we do together makes me happy, but only if you are too. Besides...” Thorin grinned, untangling their fingers to put his hand on Ori's thigh, making him shiver. “Even if we decide to leave now, I am sure we can find ways to entertain ourselves for the rest of the evening.”

He heard Ori's breath catch, and since the sound pleased him, he moved his hand a little higher.

“We've ordered drinks,” the young dwarf noted softly. “Wouldn't it be a problem to leave now?”

“I do not mind paying for a drink I won't use,” Thorin replied with a quick kiss. “Not if it means a chance for some... nicer time with you.”

Even with his hood on, it was clear that Ori had a terrible blush growing on his cheeks and that he was biting his lower lip to try not to smile too widely.

“I wouldn't mind either,” he whispered. “I... I want that very much, I've... thought about it for a long time now...”

Thorin felt a surge of heat in his groin, and it took all of his self-control not to kiss the young dwarf again. He wasn't sure he'd manage to keep things at a level that was acceptable in public.

He had felt fairly sure that Ori wanted him, the signs had been obvious even with his refusal of initiating any contact, but hearing it confirmed pleased him beyond words.

He rose from his chair, searching in his pocket a few coins to pay for the drinks that Bofur's niece was already bringing them. She never got to their table; a large dwarf stood from his chair just as she walked by him, pushing her and making her drop the mugs on his fur coat. The girl apologized profusely of course, but that wasn't enough for the tall dwarf who started requesting that she repay the clothes she had ruined, or he would call the guards on her.

“Don't you know who I am? I am lord Frej, member of the king's own council and his personal friend!” He shouted, and something in his tone brought back memories that had Thorin's blood turn to ice. “Do you think I will let you prance around and disrespect me because you're a woman? This coat was worth more than you could ever earn in your entire life!”

Thorin's old reflexes kicked in at once, and his hand moved to grab his sword,to find only empty air, since he hadn't carried a weapon in decades. It was for the best, probably. He couldn't do anything that might get him arrested, not again, not when it might get Ori in trouble this time.

Ori who had left his side, and was now standing before the lord, looking smaller than ever next to the huge dwarf.

“Isn't it unfair to ask of that girl a thing you already know she can never do?” Ori asked, his voice eerily calm and steady. “It seems to me that such behaviour is unacceptable from one who claims to serve the king, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Frej laughed at that. “And who are you exactly to give me lessons?”

Still strangely calm, Ori signed quickly a couple word in a variant of Iglishmek that Thorin didn't know before lifted the hem of his hood for a few seconds. Only lord Frej could have seen his face, and the effect on him was spectacular, turning pale as clay and falling to his knees.

“I am so sorry! I didn't know, or I would never have...”

“And that is the problem, isn't it?” Ori interrupted, his soft voice ringing loudly in the sudden silence of the tavern. “Shouldn't you act well even when there is no one to see you and judge you? Isn't it the duty of a lord to be an example for all people?”

“I didn't...”

“You should go home, lord Frej. Go home, and think about what you have done today. I am sure you will soon find out that even away from the palace, there are consequences for those who fail to act as their rank commands. But before that, you will pay for the drinks that you have spilled, of course.”

The huge dwarf nodded desperately, and with shaking hands he dropped a few coins on the nearest table before running out of the tavern as if the hordes of Mordor where on his heels. As soon as the door closed behind him, conversations started again, all the dwarves present staring at Ori with expressions going from admiration to open distrust. There were few people who could frighten a lord so easily, and most of them were Lord Nori's spies.

Thorin saw his little dwarf tense again, his shoulder hunched as if he were trying to make himself smaller. Taking that as his cue to act, the librarian went to him and quickly took him outside. They walked away from the tavern, Thorin not knowing what to say for fear he would ask the wrong questions.

“I want to go home,” Ori whispered after a while. “I'm sorry, I know I've ruined everything tonight, but I... I'm just so tired, and I've dealt with awful people all of today, and I'm just...just not in the mood for anything now.”

“You didn't ruin anything,” Thorin protested. “You were amazing, my darling. I don't know how you did it, but...”

“I can't tell you,” Ori cut him dryly. “Not today. Soon I'll tell you, I promise, but not today, I... I can't today. I just can't deal with that at the moment, not on top of everything else.”

“When you are ready then. But I don't like that you keep secrets from me,” the older dwarf admitted. “Do you trust me so little?”

“It's more complicated than just trust. I'm sorry, Thorin, I really am. But I'm so tired, and I'll go home now.”

The librarian felt his heart clench at what he took for an admission of Ori's lack of trust, but he nodded.

“Do you want me to wakl you to the palace?”

“No that... won't be necessary. I'm tired, and I need to be alone to think. Good night.”

Thorin expected him to wait for a kiss then, as he always did when they separated, but instead Ori just walked away, stumbling on his feet as if he might pass out from exhaustion at any moment. The librarian watched him go for a long moment, until the young dwarf took a turn and disappeared from his view. Only then did Thorin think of going home too, and he did so with a heavy heart.

He liked Ori, he really did, and he wanted nothing more than to _love_ him.

But the young dwarf didn't trust him, and without trust, there could be no love.


	4. brotherly advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori is a good brother.  
> A very annoying one.  
> But a good brother nonetheless.

Nori liked his little brother, loved him even, but Mahal, the lad was dumb sometimes.

Very clever.

But very dumb too.

Only someone extremely dumb could still fear that Thorin, winner of the Handsome Librarian of the Decade Aware, didn't really want to get fucked into next Monday by Ori. Even Dori, who had only seen him once, from a distance (Nori and him might have been spying on their little brother to make sure that his boyfriend was someone nice)(Nori already knew that of course, since he'd known everything there was to know about Thorin two days after Ori had first mentioned how kind he was, but Dori had still needed a little convincing) knew that Thorin wanted their little idiot of a king. Their damn mother knew it, and approved of it, even if she was disappointed that her youngest son hadn't fallen for a girl (but as she'd said, there was still cousin Gimli to provide an heir for the royal family).

The only person who wasn't absolutely certain that Thorin wanted to get in Ori's bed was Ori himself.

“Kid, he's offered to get home with you, and he had a hand on your thigh, what more proof can you ask for?” Nori asked him one night, after Ori had cancelled a date, not because of his schedule for once, but because he was afraid.

“I don't even want to know how you know that,” the young king grumbled. “And he didn't say he'd take me home, he just said we should leave.”

“With a hand on your leg. I think you fail to understand that this was the most important part of it. I'm aware you haven't been in that situation often, but when people touch you like that, it usually means they want to shag you.”

“Maybe he just wanted to make me feel better, I was so afraid someone might recognise me...”

“He wanted to make you feel better, by shagging you. Ori, you can't be that blind.”

Ori blushed, and didn't answer.

So he was that blind.

Some day, Nori would have to find out what exactly had happened with that girl Ori had been in love with two decades earlier. He had promised at the time that he wouldn't try to learn about it through his usual ways, and Ori had seemed so horrified and had begged him so much to leave that alone, but it had been more than twenty years, and he _should_ have been over it.

“You know, you could go to him and ask him directly if he wants to fuck with you,” Nori suggested. “Skip the drama. Make sure of what he wants. Then shag him.”

“But what if he just...”

“I swear if you finish that sentence, I'll have to hit you.”

Ori frowned. “I'm your king, you can't hit me.”

“I'm your big brother, I'm required to slap you when you act stupid. Which is what you are doing. Talk to him. Unless _you_ don't want to shag him?”

“Of course I do!” Ori protested. “Have you seen him? Who wouldn't want him? He's so tall and handsome, and his hands, and his eyes, and his voice, and... But I can't be sure...”

Nori slapped the back of his head.

“Ow!”

“Go see that stupid dwarf, and take him to bed, or I swear I'll do it.”

“You wouldn't!”

“An ass like that? Kid, you're my brother and I love you, but hoes before bros.”

Ori cringed at that, probably remembering the many arguments between his half brothers that had happened when they were younger, and Nori delighted in stealing Dori's lovers just for the fun of it. Of course, he'd never do that to Ori, whom he actually liked, but if the threat could make him overcome his fears...

“I'll go see him,” Ori sighed, defeated. “This week. And I... I... I will try to... to suggest... I'll _try_.”

“I'm sure you will, kid,” Nori replied, patting him on the shoulder.

But just in case Ori didn't suggest anything, maybe Nori would go see Thorin and give him a few instructions.

* * *

 

Thorin didn't like Nori.

Not that Nori blamed him. Many people didn't like him. He was a highly unpopular dwarf. It was part of his job. He was the dark side of the kingdom, and most people didn't like being reminded that this part existed. People like Dori, or on occasions their mother (Ori, on the other hand, had always been strangely practical about it).

People disliked Nori because he rules over thieves, spies and assassins.

Thorin merely disliked Nori because he was nobility.

It was a nice change, he supposed, and the librarian was refreshingly open about how little he appreciated him.

If Thorin ever ended marrying Ori, they would have to make sure he was never involved in anything that required the smallest amount of diplomacy, because the dwarf was awfully unyielding. Then again, it could be fun to put him and Thranduil in a same room, and see which one blinked first. Nori would have bet on Thorin, who was rather good at glaring and glowering.

At least, he glowered at Nori when he came to see him in the library that morning.

“What can I do for you, my lord?” he asked with a forced smile. “If you wish to discuss with lord Oin, I will go and fetch him straight away.”

“I'm actually here for you, rather than the old bore. We've got to talk.”

Thorin immediately tensed. Funny how people always did that when Nori said he had to speak to them.

“I am at your service, my lord.”

“Excellent. This is about Ori,” Nori explained, and the librarian tensed even further. “Next time he comes, you should ask him to fuck you.”

Thorin's face did a very interesting thing then, as if he tried to look very angry, but was too shocked and embarrassed for it to come out right. Nori's face remain blank, but once he'd be alone, he _would_ have to laugh at it.

“You don't have to if you don't want to of course,” Nori resumed, in the tone he'd used to discuss the price of apple in the market. “I'd even like to stress the fact that if you don't want a thing, you should tell him straight away because Mahal knows the kid has enough issues. But if you want anything, you'll have to be the one to initiate it.”

The librarian nodded then. Clearly, the idea had already crossed his mind. Good. Ori needed someone capable of working around his problems. Maybe it was a good thing he'd fallen for someone old enough to be his dad, in the end.

“If I may ask, _my lord_ , why do you care?” Thorin wondered. “I do not think you usually meddle with your people's love life, do you?”

“More than you'd think, actually. And I like the kid. I want him to be happy. I am occasionally known to have a heart, no matter what people say.”

Thorin snorted at that, and Nori didn't blame him. He knew his reputation. He had carefully crafted most of his reputation. And beside Ori, there wasn't really anyone he cared about for non-professional reasons.

“Does Ori... work for you then?”

“Everyone in the kingdom works for me. Most of them just don't know it.”

“Does _he_ know it, then?”

“He's aware of what my job entails, but he doesn't take orders from me, if that's your question. Can you imagine that boy having to lie? You're lucky there's me and his family to keep the secret, or your little romance would be the gossip of the day.”

Thorin relaxed, but not as much as Nori had hoped.

“Then he is of a rank high enough that the secret needs to be kept,” the librarian noted, sounding disappointed. “I should have known, after what happened in the tavern.”

Ah, that. Not Ori's smartest idea, to be frank, not if he wanted to keep his identity secret at least. But at the same time, Frej had been a minor inconvenience for a long while now, and Nori had been glad to have an excuse to get rid of him.

“The boy's still serious about you,” Nori stated, smiling as reassuringly as he could (and it was not a face he was used to having to make). “He's not the sort to start flirting if he doesn't want your babies. Morally speaking, in your case.”

“That is... good to know,” Thorin admitted, though he remained tense.

Didn't believe Nori, then. Couldn't be blamed for it. Bad things tended to happen to people who believe Nori too easily.

Still, it was becoming a problem. Ori couldn't go on hiding who he was.

Step one: make sure Ori got laid.

Step two: make sure Ori finally told his boyfriend he was the king, before said boyfriend learned it on his own and drama occurred.

“Well, better be on my way now,” Nori announced. “I'm a busy dwarf. Think about what I've said, and don't be afraid to say how much you want to get on your knees for him, hm? There's a good lad.”

If looks could kill, Nori would have dropped dead. Instead he just laughed at the way Thorin glared at him. Oh, he hoped things worked out well. That one would be as much fun to annoy as Dori, with the added advantage of not having grown used to it yet.

 

* * *

 

Just a few days later, Ori came home from seeing Thorin, and everything about him screamed 'well-fucked' to Nori.

His little brother looked so content, so _relaxed_ , in a way he hadn't been since his father's death, that Nori almost didn't tease him about it.

Almost.


	5. lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori was in love once before.
> 
> (accidental abuse of power, non-con kissing, unhealthy relationships and lies... this ISN'T a happy chapter)

Her name was Pial, and she was the prettiest and most wonderful girl Ori had ever seen. She was a little older than him, and much, much bigger (not that it was difficult. He was small, and he hadn't quite finished growing), and so _strong_. Her father was one of Ori's weapon masters but he had a bad leg, and as a result she was often asked to fight with him because she was very good, no matter what you put in her hands.

She had been told she shouldn't go easy on Ori, and so she didn't. He was no match for her, she was _such_ a great fighter. It didn't help that he often got distracted by the way her muscles flexed as she lifted her hammer, or how her long dark braids floated around her as she danced with her sword.

Pial wasn't unkind, but she treated him like a child most of the time, heir apparent or not, and she laughed whenever he tried to be nice to her, because she thought his compliments were jokes.

She didn't laugh the day he admitted his love for her.

“You don't have to love me back just yet!” Ori told her when he saw her frown. “But I'd be so happy if you let me try to make you love me! I think you're the most amazing person I've seen in my entire life, and I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

She looked as if she would say no.

She still said yes.

Ori had never been happier in his life.

He saw that Pial wasn't smiling back of course, but he still had to _convince_ her to love him, so it wasn't really a surprise, was it?

 

* * *

 

It wasn't easy, courting someone when you were preparing to become king one day. Ori didn't have a lot of free time, and people were always meddling with his business. Everyone knew he was sweet on Pial, and everyone had something to say about it. His mother and Dori worried because she wasn't from a noble family, and things would be difficult for her when they married. His father didn't want that little romance of his to interfere with his duties and his lessons. Nori, whenever he was around, made all sorts of dreadful jokes that had his little brother blushing. Master Balin, his private tutor, gave him all sorts of books about courting to read. Master Dwalin, who supervised all his martial training, sniggered every time Ori had to fight with Pial.

Pial who still didn't smile much.

But she always agreed whenever Ori suggested they trained in private, and she accepted all his small gifts, and she never refused to go with him whenever he wanted to go somewhere, so she had to like him, didn't she?

Sure, she never made the first step, and she didn't laugh much or smile or talk when they were together, not the way she did when she was with her friends, but she _had_ to like him, or she'd just say no.

He asked her, once, why she didn't smile more when she was with him.

She was less shy after that, smiling almost all the time. Ori was glad that she was fighting her shyness around him.

 

* * *

 

Not long after, Ori heard Pial arguing with her father.

He’d come a little early for his training session, because he was so impatient to see her. He hadn’t been able to come for an entire _week_ , because the elves had come to discuss something, and he’d been forced to stay with his father the whole time, to know king Thranduil better, to meet his son Legolas who had a great interest in dwarves, and because part of a king’s job was to be very bored but never show it, and his father thought he needed to learn that as soon as possible. Ori hadn’t minded, because it was interesting, but he’d missed Pial terribly.

He hadn’t been happy at all to see her crying, to hear her shouting, but she’d stopped both as soon as she’d seen him, and she’d smiled. It didn’t look like a real smile at all, and the young prince had worried even more, but neither she nor her father had wanted to tell him why they’d had a fight.

“It’s not because of me, is it?” He’d still asked when they had been alone together. “Is he afraid I’d just use you? ‘Cause I never would, I love you, and I want to marry you one day, I swear!”

She’d cried again, and had asked to go home, saying she wasn’t feeling too well.

Ori had let her go, asking if she wanted him to talk to her father.

She’d begged him not to do it.

So he hadn’t.

He had wondered, for a while, if he should ask someone for advice. But he was terrified that the others would tell him that he should respect Pial’s father’s decisions about his daughter.

He didn’t want to risk losing her.

 

* * *

 

He still lost her.

Only, not really, because she’d never been his to lose.

She’d cried when they’d been alone in Ori’s bedroom, Ori kissing her tenderly.

She cried a lot these days.

He’d stopped the kiss, of course, and he hugged her, asking her what was wrong, worried he might have hurt her.

Pial had just cried harder, and between her sobs, she’d admitted that she didn’t love him, didn’t want him, had never wanted him, that she didn’t even like boys, that there was this girl she liked but whom she couldn’t see anymore now, that she really didn’t love him, but he was the prince and her father had told her she had to, and, and, and...

Ori had felt sick.

He’d known she wasn’t always very happy, but he’d never imagined _that_. She had agreed to everything, she’d never said no before that day, no matter how uncomfortable she’d looked at times, he’d assumed...

“I thought you were just shy,” he whispered, horrified as he realized what he would have _done_ if she hadn’t cried. “You _never_ said no!”

“But you’re the prince!” she’d shouted, letting her anger win over her terror. “I couldn’t say no to the prince! My dad needs that job, and so do I, and I didn’t know what you’d do if I said no! _Everyone_ knows that your brother can kill and torture people, I had to protect my family! But I can’t anymore, I just can’t, I’d rather die than... Do whatever you want, I can’t do that with you!”

It had been Ori’s turn to break into tears.

It was a nightmare, it had to be. He loved her, he trusted her, and she had lied, and she had hated him all along, and she’d never said a word about it. Dori had warned him that people would do that, would pretend around him, and he’d always thought himself careful, but he hadn’t been careful enough, and he’d trusted the wrong person, and it hurt.

He’d thought she would say no.

He’d never realized that she couldn’t.

He apologized, and sent her home, knowing he could never see her again.

 

* * *

 

It was Nori’s help he required in the end, to deal with the situation. He should have talked to his parents, or to Dori, because they were the ones with the most power. But Nori felt safer. Nori wouldn’t judge him for not having realized Pial’s dislike earlier.

Nori didn’t judge.

He just looked sad.

Somehow, it felt worse than judgement, because Nori never took things seriously, never stopped joking and laughing and making fun of everyone.

“I want her and her dad to be given good jobs,” Ori told his brother.

“I thought you might. I’ll do what I can.”

“And I... it’s got to be somewhere they like, something they want, but where she won’t ever have to see me again. I don’t think she’d want to see me ever again. I wouldn’t, if I were her.”

“That can be arranged.”

“You’ve got to make sure she knows I’m not angry, okay? Tell her... tell her I’ll never do anything against her and her family, and tell her father too, because I think he was scared. How can anyone be scared of me, Nori?” he whimpered. “I’m not scary. I’m... I’m small and skinny, and she’s so big and strong, how could I scare her?”

“You’re the next king,” Nori had replied, as if that explained everything.

It did.

Ori had cried again.

He swore himself he’d never let anything like that happen again.

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t meant to hide his title from Thorin, but since the older dwarf hadn’t known who he was, it had felt... easier that way.

Especially once they became friends.

Especially once they became more than friends.

He didn’t like lying to Thorin, because he loved the librarian, loved him as he’d never loved before. Thorin was the most wonderful person in the world, and he treated Ori as if he were just any other dwarf, and if he said yes to anything, Ori knew he could believe him, because Thorin had said no sometimes, when he was tired or busy or just not in the right mood.

He didn’t know if Thorin would still be able to say no if Ori told him who he really was.

So he lied.

He had no choice, he told himself.

He couldn’t let the desastre that had been his courting of Pial repeat itself.

He loved Thorin too much to risk losing him.

And he knew that the longer he lied, the more chances he had of actually losing his lover when the truth was revealed.

He’d tell him, one day. One day soon.

But he just wanted one more moment of peace. One more moment of kissing him and laughing with him and making love to him without worrying whether Thorin was in love or just faking it.

One day he’d tell him.

One day soon.

But until then, he lied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and to think I started that 'verse because I wanted something fluffy and happy...


	6. Frerin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin used to be in the royal guards.  
> Thorin used to have a brother.  
> Both losses are linked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more unhappy, quick and very non graphic mention of torture (blink and you'll miss it) character death, nobles are a very shitty bunch in this 'verse it seems...  
> Or maybe the boys just aren't lucky.

The guards had managed to immobilize him, and they had done so without hurting him too much. A loyalty to him made all the more impressive by the fact that Thorin hadn’t gone easy on them, even though they were friends, the lot of them.

He had no friends in that moment.

No one standing between him and his brother’s murderer could be a friend.

And lord Borin had murdered Frerin, nevermind that there was no formal proof of it. Everyone knew that Frerin and him had been courting the same girl, a silversmith working with Frerin in the royal forges. Everyone knew that Frerin had had a few fights in the past, most of them nasty, all of them won by Frerin. Everyone knew that Borin was a friend to the King’s Shadow, the unofficial royal assassin (and spy and torturer).

Everyone knew that their last fight had been particularly bad. Borin hadn’t just attacked Frerin, he’d insulted Dis, calling her a whore for never having married, for having sons of different fathers, implying that it showed loose morals in the family, that no one should want to get an alliance with Frerin. And Frerin had lost his temper, because _no one_ insulted his sibling. He’d lost his control, and broken lord Borin’s arm, in front of the entire forge since that was where Borin had decided to attack.

Frerin had broken his arm, and two days later, he was dead.

His body a dreadful mess.

His face intact.

As if to send a message, as if to make sure everyone knew it was him.

They had found no proof, of course.

But Thorin knew.

He had tried every legal thing he could do to have his brother’s assassin condemned, and that was a lot indeed. Dwalin had helped him, Dwalin who was noble too and knew a bit about the law because his brother specialized in it.

Dwalin’s help had not been enough.

No one cared when a lord killed a silversmith.

In the end, even Dwalin, who had loved Frerin as if he were his own brother, had told him to let it go, to just admit that they couldn’t prove anything, that there was nothing to be done, that he’d risk his career if he insisted, and who would help Dis feed her little ones? She worked, yes, but she didn’t make enough money to pay everything on her own, Thorin had to think of the children, had to think of his nephews...

He had thought of his nephews.

He had given up.

Until the day he’d learnt that lord Borin was marrying the girl Frerin and him had been courting.

Thorin knew that girl, he’d met her, he’d seen her with his brother, he’d seen her smile at Frerin and he knew she’d liked him. She’d even come to his funeral, she’d cried as they gave him back to the stone. She would never have married Borin.

And Thorin had snapped then, just as Frerin had snapped before him.

It hadn’t been a very wise move to attack the lord in the middle of the palace, but it had been the only place where he could get near Borin.

The only thing that saved the lord’s life that day was that Dwalin had been there, and that he’d understood what Thorin was about to do. Not fast enough to prevent him from attacking, but thanks to him (because of him) Thorin wasn’t an assassin.

Only a traitor.

It took him a long time to forgive Dwalin, even though the other dwarf saved his life again several time again in the following weeks.

It was Dwalin who begged Balin to find a way to let people know what had happened, and then begged again to bring the case before the king, rather than an ordinary judge.

It was Dwalin who testified how close Thorin had been to his brother, and who made others testify that Thorin’s suspicions weren’t unfounded.

It was Dwalin who, once everything was over and Thorin was alive and free but with a dishonorable discharge, found him a job with Oin, in the library, reminding his cousin of some small favour he owed him.

It was Dwalin who took him out for drinks and asked him about his nephews latest jokes and always wanted to know how work was going, forcing him to talk and relax on nights where the temptation of seeking out Borin and finishing the job was too big (and Thorin never knew for sure how Dwalin knew that, though he suspected that Dis and her sons were watching him closely the first few years).

“Don’t know why you put up with me,” Thorin told him one night, a few decades after Frerin’s death.

“You’re my shield-brother. You might no longer have a shield, but you still are. And remember that night when we got drunk on elvish stuff?”

“Hard to forget. Got a tattoo on my ass with your family’s crest on it.”

“And I’ve got yours. Stuff like that, it means something. There’s a deep, unbreakable link between us. On our asses.”

Thorin sniggered, as did Dwalin.

“You’re an idiot,” the librarian announced.

“Tell me something I don’t know. But I’m your idiot, and you’re my stuck up jerk who needs to get laid.”

Thorin laughed again, and punched him playfully on the shoulder.

He almost didn’t think of what joke Frerin would have made, almost didn’t wonder which dwarf on the tavern his brother would have suggested to him.

Frerin was dead and his killer was still alive and powerful and he'd just had a son.

But there was nothing Thorin could do about it.

So he just drank, and laughed with Dwalin.

There was nothing else he could do.


	7. meeting the king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no secret can be kept forever.

It had been an accident.

Thorin wasn’t _meant_ to be in the palace that day, but Oin’s nephew had disappeared, either with Thorin’s own nephews or with that elf friend of his, and Oin could not present himself in court alone. Apparently, being the king’s cousin meant you had to have someone to carry your papers for you when you were meeting said king. Thorin had not liked the idea at all.

Lord Borin rarely left his house these days, because he had more enemies than friends (as he always had, but Lord Nori was the king’s Shadow now, and he didn’t share his predecessor’s friendships), but the risk still existed, and there were so many people there whom he’d known in the past (he’d been lucky so far in his dates with Ori, never seeing anyone he knew when he came to the palace... though it probably had little to do with luck, and more with Dwalin’s help)

But Oin had insisted. He could not, would not go alone, and Thorin owed him this at least, and if anyone said anything, then Oin would take care of it.

It had been painful, walking through the great corridors of the palace once more, and being reminded of the days when he worked there. He still missed everything about it, the time spent with Dwalin, his lunches with Frerin at the forge, and how once or twice Dwalin and him had let Dis and the boys sneak in to show them around. This should have been his life, serving Erebor and the king, and even after fifty years, he missed it. The only good side of what had happened was that working in the library had allowed him to meet Ori and Mahal, didn’t he love that boy.

It had taken him a while to admit it, and it was hard to love a dwarf who _still_ didn’t trust him, but the word was the only one he could use to describe it.

It had been a bit of a shock to see the lad in the throne’s room.

It had been even more of a shock to see him dressed with a long purple tunic with delicate golden embroidery, and to see a large gold crown on his head, to see him talking with a dwarf who clearly was a great lord as if he were just the more ordinary person in the world.

It had been a shock, and Thorin had refused to believe it until the moment Ori turned their way, recognized him, and went pale.

Ori was the king.

Ori, his sweet and shy Ori, who had the nicest of smiles, who didn’t dare to tell Fili and Kili to stop bothering him, who was so tender in bed, who was always so afraid of everything.

Ori was the king.

It felt like taking a sword to the guts, and Thorin wondered how he’d tell the others, how he would...

But they had to know, didn’t they? _Fili_ at least must have known, he _worked_ for Ori, and if he knew then Kili knew, and so did Dis, and Dwalin had to know to, since he too worked for the l... for the _king_.

They all knew.

And they’d said nothing.

He’d have felt betrayed if he hadn’t felt so stupid.

Of course Ori was the king. Who else could have been so at ease with lord Nori, who else would have talked with such carelessness of lord Dori, who else would have needed to be so careful about not been recognized in the street, who else would have had the ability to get the palace’s training ground made private for hours, who else would have been so busy every time there was something wrong in the kingdom? He should have seen it.

He hadn’t.

And Ori had lied to him.

Maybe he hadn’t thought of it as such, because he’d never said what he did for a living, and he’d never said he wasn’t the king, had he? But lies of omissions were still lies. Ori had lied to him. He’d lied to him since the first day, and he’d made all the others _lie_ too.

Thorin had loved him, he really had, but after _this_ , he no longer could.

In the end, Oin had to elbow him in the ribs for Thorin to remember that he couldn’t stare at Ori. He was, after all, nothing but a humble librarian, and the lad was the damn King of Erebor, Mahal’s bloody gift to his people to guide them and rule them.

They didn’t live in the same world, not anymore.

So Thorin lowered his gaze, and didn’t look again at the young dwarf.

He had no right to.

And as if to confirm that, Ori didn’t once talk to him, didn’t once try to get his attention.

They didn’t live in the same world anymore.

* * *

  


Things might have been different if Ori had talked to him in the palace. At that moment, Thorin had still been more stunned than angry.

But by the time he got back to the library, shock had given way to anger and a feeling of betrayal.

Ori had lied to him.

Ori had taken advantage of his ignorance, and made sure to keep him in the dark. Ori, for all that he had claimed to be in love, had known all along that their courtship could never go anywhere, that he could never marry Thorin, because kings didn’t marry librarians, certainly not male ones, and even less males ones twice said king’s age.

Ori couldn’t have been serious about this, and yet he’d let Thorin fall in love with him.

Ori had used him.

Ori had acted the way all nobles did, taking what he wanted and letting the rest of the world deal with the consequences.

Ori was no better than lord Borin had been.

Ori deserved no forgiveness from him.

* * *

  


Thorin had rather expected to see the lad... the _king_ come to the library that night, and he had spent the entire afternoon preparing for it. He knew Ori, and he knew himself. It wouldn’t be easy to stay angry, but he would.

Ori deserved no forgiveness.

It was hard to remember _why_ he shouldn’t forgive him when he saw the lad run to him, half wrapped in a grey cloak, looking panicked and close to tears. He looked young and fragile and so scared, and...

And he had lied. This might all be an act, a way of not losing his cheap fuck with that stupid old librarian who had never realized who he was.

Thorin was done been taken for an idiot.

“I swear I was going to tell you,” Ori claimed. “I was... soon, very soon, I just wasn’t ready, I was so scared, I didn’t know how you’d react... I love you, I love you so much, I didn’t want to lose you, I couldn’t risk...”

“You and your brother must have laughed a lot together, didn’t you?” Thorin cut him coldly, as coldly as he could manage. “I’ve been so blind.”

“I’d never laugh at you! Thorin, I swear, I didn’t want to hide it from you, but I wasn’t sure you’d want me if you knew who I was, and...”

“Then you were smart, I’d never have wanted you if I had known,” Thorin spat angrily. “I do not like being _used_ , my king, and using me is the only thing you could ever have done.”

He saw Ori tense then, as he did sometimes for reasons Thorin had never fully understood, and it made him want to take the lad in his arms, to hold him and kiss him until he calmed down, as he had always done before.

But not this time.

Not this time.

“I don’t want you to come here again,” Thorin grunted. “Never come near me again, or near anyone I know. Go find yourself another idiot to fuck. I’m sure it must to be easy for you to convince people to get in your bed. In fact, I cannot understand why you would go to such length to deceive me... though I imagine it must have felt very fun to have someone who didn’t know who you were. Well, the game is over, my king. Find someone else.”

“But I don’t _want_ someone else!” Ori protested. “I want _you_ , I only want you, I love you! And you love me too, you said so, please forgive me, please, please, I love you!”

Thorin almost gave in.

He did love Ori, and the lad did look sorry, and Mahal, the idea of being away from him, of losing him, was a torture.

But it was a matter of pride.

Ori had lied to him, Ori had manipulated him, Ori had made his nephews and Dwalin lie to him.

Ori had acted the way lord Borin had.

Ori, his wonderful, sweet little lover, was nothing but another spoiled noble, taking what he wanted how he wanted it.

Ori had had a whim, a sudden desire for him, but it couldn’t be more than that, or he wouldn’t have lied.

Ori would get over it quickly.

Thorin would never forgive himself if he forgave Ori.

“Leave, and never come back,” he growled. “I do not want to ever see you again. Not of my own free will, at least. You can of course _make_ me, _my king_.”

It was a low blow, and Thorin knew it, just as he knew the young king’s fear of forcing people. But he knew also that it was the only way to make sure that the other dwarf wouldn’t come back, wouldn’t tempt him into forgetting his pride.

It had the desired effect. The young lord went pale, and took a step back, looking as if he might be sick.

“I understand, master Thorin,” he said in a weak voice. “I will...” the king had to stop then and to take a deep breath before he could resume. “I will not bother you again with any unwanted attentions. I apologize if I... if I dragged you in something you did not want. G-Goodbye, master Thorin.”

“Farewell, my king.”

The young king bowed his head stiffly, turned away, and left without another glance.

Thorin took a few deep breaths.

There were books to put back in there place, and he had promised Oin’s nephew to find him a reliable method to learn Sindarin.

Better keep himself busy.

Work was the one thing he could still count on.

With the back of his hand, he wiped his eyes.

Better keep himself busy.

 


	8. aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after, Ori wakes up and does what he has to do, because he's the king, and kings aren't allowed to dwell on a broken heart.

There was a lot to do to prepare for the tenth anniversary of his coronation, and Ori barely had a minute to himself. He needed to make sure the feasts would be perfect, that his guests would have suitable rooms for themselves and their servants, that no one would try to attack him or his guests, and all that on top of his regular work.

It was exhausting.

It was everything he needed.

 

* * *

 

The first few days after Thorin had sent him away had been hard, but no matter how much he had wanted to, he had not been able to curl up in his bed and lie there until his death. He had duties.

So when his dwarfservant had come the first morning after, he’d gotten up and done what he had to do. Because he was king, and kings were not allowed to cry over lost love.

It had been hard, but habit was a powerful thing. He’d gone about all his duties as if nothing had happened, smiling when he had to smile, giving orders when needed, listening to everyone’s complaints and trying to deal with their problems as well as he could. There was much to do. Lords’ quarells to pacify, merchants guild to meet, training with Dwalin (he almost cried there, but kings didn’t cry, so he forced himself to keep a blank face), ambassadors to meet, his mother to see about the upcoming celebration, the finances of the palace to check.

After a few days Dori noticed that something was a little off with him, of course, because Dori noticed everything.

“Haven’t been sleeping well,” Ori lied (though it wasn’t a _real_ lie. He’d done more crying than sleeping).

“Do you want me to get you a potion for tonight, something to help with that?”

“That’d be nice,” the young king answered with his most polite smile. “Oh, and would you... You know, that business about the renovation of the library? I’m really sorry, I know it was my idea, but I... there’s so much to do at the moment, and I’m not sure I can take care of it right now, and...”

“I’ll deal with Oin,” Dori promised. “And don’t you look so guilty about it. It _is_ also part of your job to know when to delegate, you know.”

Ori didn’t answer that, and instead changed to conversation to the subject of the coming celebration.

 

* * *

 

Nori came to see him that night, for the first time since he’d last seen Thorin.

Nori who looked worried.

Ori hated it when his brother looked worried. It didn’t suit him. Nori was a cocky bastard who took nothing seriously, and that was _exactly_ how he was supposed to be.

“Dori said you didn’t look too good,” Nori said. “He said you looked sad. Did... something happen?”

“Why do you ask questions when you already know the answer?”

“Because, and this must remain a secret between you and me, I don’t _always_ know the answers. You’ve asked me to stay out of your love life, and so I do.”

Ori sighed. “But you still know there’s something going on there...”

“If it was anything else, you’d have told Dori,” his brother pointed out. “You tell him everything.”

 _And you tell me the rest_ , Nori didn’t add, though they both knew it to be true.

“Oh. That’s true, I suppose. It... well, I... Look, you’ve got to promise you won’t take any action, won’t do anything bad, okay? But, I... Thorin... he came to the palace, and he saw me, and... and he...”

The young king swallowed, his voice failing him. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t say out loud that he’d lost Thorin, but Nori seemed to understand anyway, and pulled his little brother to him.

“I’m sorry for you, kid. Is there... is there any chance that...”

“He hates me,” Ori whispered. “He said I had used him.”

“Ah.”

Having Nori speechless over that hurt, more than anything before had. Ori had expected his brother to have something to say, to reassure him, to tell him it was obvious he’d been doing nothing of the sort.

Nori’s silence was a condamnation.

Ori felt tears coming, and hated himself for it.

“Why do I always hurt the people I love?” he sobbed. “Why can’t I do things right?”

“You’re the king, kid. And that’s... life, you know. You did your best, but sometimes your best isn’t enough.”

“But I love him, and it... it hurts so much, I just... _I just want to be with him_.”

Nori patted his head, saying something about understanding what that felt like.

Except he didn’t, Ori thought darkly. Nori had some power, yes, but Ori could do _anything_. All it would have taken to have Thorin again was to give one order, and the librarian would have been forced to come to him, willing or not.

And Ori _had_ been tempted. Four days had passed since he’d last seen his lover, and there hadn’t been an hour where he hadn’t hesitated. It would be so easy. Just one word, and he’d have Thorin again. The older dwarf would hate him for it surely, but he already hated him, and it was so _tempting_ , just to have one more look at him, just for one more kiss, just for one more minute with the dwarf he loved, and then he’d deal with the consequences, then he’d live knowing Thorin hated him, but he just wanted one last chance to pretend that things were right.

He’d never even wanted to do that when Pial had left his life.

Losing her had been nothing compared to losing Thorin.

“D’you think it would have been different if I had told him sooner?” Ori asked his brother.

Nori remained silent again, and the fact that he had to think of his answer was an answer in itself.

“You _should_ have told him,” Nori eventually said. “In good or bad, you’d have avoided pain for the both of you. I won’t say ‘I told you so’, and I _get_ why you didn’t tell him, but you should have told him.”

Ori winced. It was the thing when he asked for his brother’s opinion, of course. The King’s Shadows swore to never lie to their master, to always be frank. That was one of the reasons why kings had Shadows.

And Nori had told him more than once that he should tell Thorin.

Mahal, he’d _told himself_ that he should tell Thorin, but he’d been so terrified of... things happening the exact way that had happened, come to think of it.

“There’s no going back now, is there?” he sighed. “I’ve lost him for good. Just like... Just like _her_.”

“The girl didn’t love you. _He_ did. There’s still hope. But not much. I wouldn’t count too much on him coming back, if I were you.”

Ori nodded. There was hope.

He’d have to kill it.

He couldn’t _afford_ to lose time hoping the dwarf he loved would come back to him. Not when he had a kingdom to run.

“I’ll get over it, right? With time. Everyone gets over it, with time. It... It’s not like he was my One or anything, was he? He’d never have broken up with me if he were. I’ll get over it, won’t I?”

Nori, once more, said nothing, and hugged his little brother tight.

Like all of his silences, it said everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a very hard chapter to write, for a number of reasons...  
> Mostly because my own first real break-up was a few months ago, and I found myself re-living it a bit here...XD (as a note, I'm more than fine now about that separation, I really am, don't worry...XD)  
> But yeah, I'm still not super happy with it, but it's a "I need to get rid of this part" thing...
> 
> And I had terrible problem writing Nori. As I always do when I use him to be anything but a comic relief. Dude, I love you tons, but you sure are hard to write!!!D:


	9. Sisterly concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin should have known Dis would hear about it.  
> He should also have known she wouldn't be happy about it.

Thorin stifled a yawn, trying hard to listen to the young elf’s poem.

Legolas was a nice lad, but he wasn’t much good at these things, and if he thought he was going to win over Gimli with a few broken rhymes, then he was in for disappointment.

“Your eyes, gray as the early night sky, your hair, black as...”

“Gimli’s hair isn’t black,” Thorin cut him.

“It’s not fair, therefore it’s black,” Legolas replied haughtily. “What else do you expect me to call it?”

“Red, since that’s its colour.”

“Oh, _red_ ,” the elf sniffed. “I couldn’t say he has red hair! That’s a Noldor’s colour, it... wouldn’t be nice to him to compare him to them. No, his hair is black. A fairer black than most, but still.”

“You elves really see everything in black and white, don’t you?”

“That is only because the world often _is_ black and white,” Legolas claimed with the same petulance of youth his would-be lover often had. These two could have terrible fights some days, and Thorin had had to bear witness to more of those than he’d have liked.

Not that he didn’t like the two young idiots, or that he didn’t approve of their little romance. Quite the opposite, he did his best to help them (which involved telling Legolas to give up on poetry). Helping them made it easier to not think of his own situation. And if either of the two love-struck idiots had noticed that he’d been giving them a lot more advice over the past two weeks, then they hadn’t said a thing about it.

“Dwarves don’t see things in black and white, we see _colour_ , and if you tell Gimli is hair is black, he’ll get angry.” Not as angry as he’d get anyway over how dreadful the poem generally was, but still.

Legolas, displeased by this turn of event, bit his lower lip and frowned. His entire relation with Gimli was apparently based on cultural problems. From what Thorin knew, they’d started their not-quite-flirting after a careless comment from the young dwarf about elves’ braids, and virtually all their conversations since that days had been either arguments or debates. The librarian didn’t quite get why Legolas wanted to try a new approach when the old one had worked rather well, but he was, as always, willing to help.

“Look, lad, maybe you should just...”

“ _THORIN, SON OF THRAIN, SON OF THROR, WE NEED TO TALK_!”

Thorin jumped, as did Legolas, and then he winced when he saw his sister striding toward them, looking furious.

“Lad, you’d better go,” the librarian quickly told the elf. “Now. Go see if Firn is still around, and ask him to find you a book on dwarven poetry. And tell him my sister is here. He’ll understand. Go, now!”

The young elf seemed worried, but obeyed nonetheless, and left quickly after a concerned look at Dis.

Pah. Concern.

 _Terror_ was the only emotion one should have felt around Dis when she was that angry.

“Hello, sister dear. How nice of you it is to come and visit me here. What can I do for you?”

“Well, you could tell me why you broke up with the bloody king?” she snarled.

“Ah. And how do you know that, exactly?”

Thorin had felt he’d hidden it rather well, to be honest. He hadn’t felt ready to tell anyone just yet, because that would have been admitting that he’d been a blind idiot for months, as well a acknowledging the fact that he’d lost Ori. He hadn’t told anyone, and no one had asked any questions, because they were all used to the young king not being able to come for a long period.

“I have my sources,” Dis grunted. “And they are _good_ sources. Thorin, why did you _do_ that?”

“I don’t have to...”

“You do! He’s the bloody king, and he made you happier than I’d seen you in fifty years, why  would you give up on that?”

“And why didn’t you tell me he _was_ the king?” Thorin exploded. “You knew, you _all_ knew, and not one of you _told_ me! I’m your brother, I deserved a warning!”

Dis stared at him with wide eyes.

“Are you telling me that you really still didn’t know?” she gasped. “But I... we all thought you were just... pretending not to know! How could... didn’t he tell you?”

“Found out on my own. Doubt he ever intended to let me know. And I don’t know how he made you and the boys stay silent, but...”

“Make us? Thorin, he didn’t _make_ us do anything,” Dis protested, frowning. “We just didn’t say anything because it was funny at first. My own brother, courted by the king, and not aware of it! It sounded like something right out of a saga! Kili had started writing that saga, actually. It’s pretty good, though he insists on calling you dark and mysterious when you’re just a gloomy old thing.”

That felt like yet another blow. Bad enough to have been used and to have seen his feelings toyed with by a spoiled king who had probably already forgotten him, but to know that his own family had seen it all as a good joke, had laughed at his situation, was the final straw.

“You found this funny?” he growled, and his sister took a step back. “You thought there was anything amusing in the fact that he turned me into his... into his _whore_ , there’s no other word?”

“His... Mahal, do you have to be so dramatic? Is that why you left him?”

“What else was I supposed to do after that? For Durin’s sake, Dis, how could you not let me know, how could none of you let me know, how could you let me fall in love with him knowing I’d never _keep_ him?”

And that was what hurt more in the end, wasn’t it? He could have lived with Ori lying to him. He _had_ lived with Ori lying to him for months, he’d lived with the fact that the lad didn’t _trust_ him, and he’d accepted it all because he’d thought it was all a matter of time, that sooner or later, his young lover would open up and make him a part of his life, rather than a secret romance to be hidden away. But no amount of time could change the fact that Ori was the bloody _king_.

Dis let out a broken noise and rushed to her brother, pulling him in her arms.

“Oh, Thorin, I’m so sorry, we never thought... Did he tell you that your courtship wouldn’t go anywhere? But he... he looked so ridiculously in love with you, and you with him! We all just thought you’d found your One at last, we were happy for you!”

“He’s the king, who cares if he was my One or not? These things don’t matter when you’re noble.”

Dis’s grip on him tightened almost painfully.

“Brother dear, answer my question, will you? Did he _say_ that he wouldn’t marry you?”

“He’s the...”

“Answer!”

“... No, he didn’t,” Thorin admitted. “But I didn’t really give him the time for it. I felt humiliated enough as it was, I didn’t want to hear him...”

“Oh, you utter _ass_!” Dis grunted, slapping him on the side of the head. “You insulted him, didn’t you? Of course you did! You insulted him, and made him leave, and now you’re being all bloody tragic, but I bet you didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself! I swear, if you weren’t my brother, I’d beat you up.”

“He _lied_ to me!”

“He’s _seventy_!” Dis retorted, almost shouting. “He’s seventy, and you’re probably his first serious romance! Don’t you remember being young? Because _I_ certainly do! And I remember that at ninety you, Frerin and Dwalin were still trying to get in your bed any pretty dwarf you met! I remember that I eighty, I got pregnant from a dwarf whose name I didn’t even know, just because he had pretty eyes and a big blond beard, and then five years later I did the same mistake again, because I was young and the whole point of being young is that we are stupid and make _mistakes_!”

For a short second, Thorin was tempted to reply that he hadn’t been Ori’s first love, that there had been a girl before him, but the words stuck in his throat.

There had been a girl before him, the younger dwarf had mentioned her once or twice, and he’d made it clear that things hadn’t ended well with her, that most of his reserve and his fears were due to the fact he didn’t want to repeat that. Ori had been so terrified of bedding him the first time, spending more time worrying whether Thorin really wanted it than actually enjoying it.

The young made mistakes, and Ori had been nothing short of traumatized by his.

And yet, he’d trusted Thorin, in spite of it all.

“He’s the king,” he repeated stubbornly. “I could never have had him.”

“He the king,” Dis sighed. “You couldn’t have him. But _he_ could have _you_ , and if you think he didn’t want to, you are blind. He loves you.”

“But...”

“His father was his mother’s second husband,” Dis reminded her brother. “Remember the scandal it was at the time, a king marrying a widow? _No one_ had ever heard anything like it, and yet it happened. He’d have married you if he’d wanted to, old and grumpy and stubborn as you are. Why did you ruin it?”

“Because I looked at him that day, and I saw a lord doing what he wanted without a care for others. I looked at him, and I saw lord Borin.”

Thorin expected his sister to shout at him again, call him an idiot for comparing the sweetest, most perfect dwarf in existence to their brother’s murderer. Instead, Dis hugged him again, and her pity felt worse than her anger would have.

“Oh, Thorin...”

He fought down a sob. He had ruined it.

Ori had been _wrong_ to lie to him, but he’d been even more wrong to get so angry, to never give his lover a chance to defend himself, to assume the worse and refuse to listen, to say the exact words he’d known would mean his One would never dare to try and get a second chance.

“Oh, Thorin,” Dis repeated, petting his hair gently, as she’d always done since childhood to calm him. “I am so sorry for you, brother.”

“I’ve lost him. I love him and I’ve lost him, and I’ll never again... I’ve been so wrong!”

“You’ve always been an idiot in these things,” his sister sighed sadly. “But you still love him, don’t you?”

He nodded. Even when he’d felt most hurt and betrayed he’d still loved Ori, and pushing him away had been the hardest thing he’d done in his life, right after having to look at Frerin’s mangled body and confirm that it was his brother who’d been found.

“What does it matter if I love him?” he sighed, pulling away from his sister’s embrace. “I have lost him. I can’t ever dream of getting near him, and after what I’ve told him, he’ll never come back here. I’ve lost him, Dis. All I can do is... try to move on. It’s probably for the best, in the end. Can you imagine me with a crown?”

Dis threw him a speculative look.

Thorin knew that look.

He usually didn’t like that look, because most of the time it meant his sister was going to make him do exactly what she wanted him to. But for the first time in his life, the Look gave him hope. 

But before he could ask her what she had in mind, Dis wished him goodbye and left.

For the first time in days, Thorin smiled.

It seemed his sister had a plan.

And Dis’s plans rarely ever failed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dis wanted a chapter.  
> So I gave her a chapter.  
> Also, more Legolas/Gimli, because we sure need some fluff in here, don't we?


	10. questions from an elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori and Legolas talk about courting

Ori had been in his room, enjoying one of his rare moments of free time when Legolas had asked to see him, and he’d readily agreed to that request. They weren’t friends, not exactly, but it was a close thing, and Ori always appreciated the company of someone who treated him with neither fear or unneeded deference.

“What brings you here, my prince?”

“I come for advice,” the elf sighed, falling on a chair next to Ori’s. “And after the longest of reflections, it turns out you are the most likely to give it to me.”

“Then I’ll do my best to help, but don’t expect too much wisdom from me. I’m too young to be wise.”

“And there are many who are too old for it, but still claim that they are. It should be no problem in this case, though. Any dwarf at all could answer my questions, but you happen to be the one I trust the most.”

“Then tell me what the problem is.”

Legolas blushed slightly, and looked away.

“I would not exactly call it a problem as such,” explained. “More of a... I would rather call it curiosity, and an attempt to understand your kind. Still... as of late, I find myself wondering how dwarves are supposed to be courted.”

Ori felt his heart clench.

It had been more than a month since he’d last seen Thorin, but the pain was still as fresh, and the mere idea of other people courting made him both desperately sad and impossibly furious, as if a part of him had decided that since he couldn’t be happy, no one should be.

He still smiled politely at the elf.

“That is indeed information that any dwarf could give you. May I enquire if you have a specific reason for this question? Do you think someone in the palace has attempted this toward you?”

“Not in the palace, no. And I... I am actually the one attempting things, to be frank.”

“Oh. Who is... the lucky dwarf?” Ori asked, trying to not think of how strange the idea of an elf and a dwarf together was. How would they kiss, let alone make things fit in bed? Where would they _live_? Elves didn’t last long inside mountains, and forest never worked well for dwarves.

“I would rather not disclose his identity just yet,” Legolas politely replied. “Not until I know if things can work between us. But what I can tell you is that he works at the library, I think, and he has hair and a beard of the most fascinating shade of black. I think he likes me well enough, and we have been talking for a while, but now I wish to make it known to him that my interest lies beyond the boundaries of friendship. Sadly, I do not know how to do such a thing, and... are you well?”

“Just fine,” Ori breathed, his hands clenching on his armrests. “You... how long have you... ”

“Oh, it has been some time now,” the elf claimed with a dreamy smile. “But I only recently realized that I had grown to enjoy his company far more than expected. I think he is unspoken for, as far as I can tell. I have asked a friend how to know these things with your kind, and he showed me the sort of braids your people use when they take a lover, and I haven’t seen any on him.”

“Then he must be free,” the young king confirmed, forcing himself to smile again, forbidding himself to remember how tempted he’d often been to claim Thorin in that way.

There were plenty of dark haired librarians, and many of them must have been single.

Legolas couldn’t be talking about Thorin.

Could he?

“So then, how should I make my intention known? I have tried writing poetry, but that didn’t end too well. It seems by your people’s standards, I am not very good. Then again, neither am I by my people’s standards.”

Thorin wasn’t overly fond of poetry, unless it was exceptionally good.

“I would rather suggest that you... offer to train with him,” Ori said, each word feeling like a stab. "Swords... swords are a classic, though it might be complicated with the... difference in height. Maybe... maybe archery could be easier to manage.”

Thorin was a decent archer. Not as good as he was a sworddwarf, and not as good as Ori, but he could manage very well.

“You fight to court? Isn’t that strange?”

“It is only the first step. Later, in... in a courtship conducted the right way” unlike _yours_ , a voice reminded Ori “you will learn about their craft, and them about yours, to... to see if you are well fitted, if you can well understand... the demands of his job...”

“That is actually a very clever way to do thing!” Legolas exclaimed. “Very well. So if I tell him I wish to train with him, he will know my intent?”

“Oh, I’m sure he will,” Ori whispered sadly. “I... sorry, was there anything else you wanted to know? I fear I... there’s the celebration coming you know, and I have much to prepare, and...”

Legolas nodded happily, and jumped on his legs.

“I am sorry to have used up you time, your highness. I think I will go straight to the library, and put your good advice to use right now! Thank you so much for your help with this. I shall make sure to tell you how it all went!”

Ori had smiled at him, until the door at closed behind the elf.

And once he’d been alone, he’d prayed to Mahal and any god willing to listen, begging them to not let his dwarf take a new lover so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally part of a larger chapter, but then, that chapter turned out to be mostly awful and so you just get the bit I like :D  
> (You're not missing much, just Ori talking to his mother and being exceedingly dramatic)


	11. Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin isn't very good at being a chaperone

Sometimes, just sometimes, Thorin hated Oin and suspected the old dwarf of willingly take advantage of the debt he owed him. For example by asking him to babysit his nephew and Legolas ( _supervise_ he’d said, but Thorin knew better). 

Oin, apparently, was worried that the elf might use his witch’s power to seduce and take advantage of Gimli. Thorin had very nearly answered that first, he was _almost_ sure that Legolas was male (maybe) and secondly, that Gimli and him had already taken advantage of each other. In the library’s storeroom. And if anything, it had seemed the dwarf had been the one... _seducing_. But Oin didn’t need to know that, of course, which meant that Thorin didn’t have a single valid argument as to why he didn’t need to spend the afternoon playing chaperone while these two had an elvish date for a change.

Elvish date, his ass.

Thorin was no expert on the subject, but he was rather convinced that elvish dates did not usually mean serving tea to your chaperone, shoving a book in his hands, claiming you had something fascinating to show your lover in your room, no need to come with us master Thorin, it shall only take us a moment, before disappearing for the entire afternoon.

At least, it was a good book.

And it had been a while since he’d last sat and just enjoyed a book. He’d been... busy.

Technically, nothing more than usual had happened in the library, but Thorin had taken it upon himself to check that every single book they had was in its proper place, and that their index was up to date. Oin had praised him for this initiative, and had claimed that he should get dumped more often since it made him so serviceable. Thorin had resisted punching him, but only barely.

He missed Ori.

It had been easy enough to pretend he didn’t before his conversation with Dis. All he’d had to do was to let his anger be great enough to erase everything else by constantly reminding himself of all the ways in which his lover had failed him. But his sister (damn her!) had given him hope, and hope was the worst thing in the world. Hope reminded him of Ori’s smile, the way he’d blush whenever he was embarrassed of very happy, the taste of his skin, his laugh that started as a shy chuckle but exploded in a great bark if Thorin teased for long enough, the way he’d get excited about a story sometimes and could talk for hours about this or that character, all his shyness gone for a moment.

Thorin missed Ori so much it hurt, and yet there was nothing he could do about it, because Ori was the blasted king. With anyone else, the librarian would have gone to their house to talk about what had happened and offer an apology, but he couldn’t very well go to the palace and tell the guards that he was the king’s ex secret lover, coming to get a second chance, could he?

Maybe if he asked Dwalin...

But no, that was a bad idea. Dwalin wouldn’t break the rules, not for something like that, not if he thought Thorin had hurt Ori in any way. So all he could do was to wait for Dis’s plan to come into action. And he knew she had a plan, just as he knew that she had set things in motion, but he honestly had no idea what, exactly, she was trying to do, and when he’d asked her, she’d just laughed to his face.

Which he should have expected, really. Dis wasn’t the sort to let her pawns know what awaited them.

What he couldn’t have expected, on the other hand, was for one of Legolas’s servant to come into the room, announcing that his highness the King of Erebor desired a conversation with the Heir apparent of the Greenwoods.

“He’s upstairs,” Thorin told the elf, quickly rising from his seat and doing his best to avoid looking at the young dwarf. “He took Gimli with him, and said they’d be back in a moment.”

The elf winced, and Thorin suspected “ _back in a moment_ ” really must have been code for “ _gone shagging, don’t disturb_ ” for their people.

“Then I am afraid I will have to go fetch him,” the servant sighed, the very picture of someone who hoped that what was going on wasn’t what she thought was going on. “I am most sorry, your majesty. Please, do take a seat, I am sure the prince will be here immediately.”

Both Ori and Thorin tried to protest that it was a terribly bad idea, but the elf didn’t listen and she left them alone, closing the door on them.

“Tea?” Thorin asked immediately, fearing what he might say if he allowed a silence to fall between them. “It isn’t too bad, for elvish stuff.”

“Not thirsty,” Ori whispered, his voice barely a breath. “I am sorry, I did not know you would be here. I did not... Had I known, I would... have chosen another moment to visit the prince.”

“I didn’t know myself that morning that I would be here this afternoon, so you are more than excuse. I... how do you do?”

Ori seemed surprised by the question, as if he hadn’t expected even the most basic politeness from the librarian. It made Thorin’s heart clench, but not as much as the fact that the lad looked dreadful, as if he hadn’t slept in days... he had often seemed tired before, but somehow this seemed worse than anything in their days together.

“I do as well as I can,” Ori replied softly. “I am very busy these days. At least, I try to be. Do you... are you and prince Legolas friends, then?”

“You could say that, I suppose,” Thorin said, not wanting to admit that he wasn’t taking his duty as a chaperone very seriously, not when Gimli was Ori’s own cousin, and barely an adult by their reckoning. “He comes often to the library, and he has a great curiosity for our kind. He’s got a good heart, and a good head when he wants and for an elf he isn’t among the ugliest you could find,” he added, feeling particularly helpful toward Gimli and his elf, and wouldn’t these two need help when Gloin learned of it.

Ori frowned at that answer, and looked away.

“I see. I am... glad that you made a new friend so quickly then, master Thorin.”

“I do not know about new. He and I started conversing quite a while ago, about the same time you started coming around in fact... though I suppose I never had the occasion to spend much time with him, not while I... had you.”

The phrasing was clumsy, and Thorin wished he had found a better way to talk of what they’d had. Still, it couldn’t quite justify the way the young king flinched and stared at him in shock, as if he’d been stricken.

“He had already offered you friendship then?” Ori all but whined, looking desperate. “But he said... I had thought...”

“He talked to you about me?”

“He told me of his intentions,” Ori admitted weakly. “I was not sure whom he was talking about, not before today. I hope his friendship will bring you joy, and that he will have the honesty and courage I never managed to show.”

Thorin frowned. That was another strange reaction. There was no need to be so dramatic about the fact that he got along with the elf. He couldn’t even find it in him to be glad that the lad understood _how_ he’d done wrong by him, because Ori looked utterly _heartbroken_.

That was when the odd choice of words of the young dwarf really hit him. There had been a strange inflection to his voice when he’d asked if Legolas and Thorin were _friends_ , talking of intentions, of Legolas succeeding where he had failed and...

Mahal, the fool thought that Thorin had taken the elf as his _lover_.

A small part of the librarian wondered if he should be offended that Ori thought him capable of jumping into someone’s else bed so soon after their own affair had ended, but the greater part of his mind was rejoicing. Certainly, if Ori looked so sad at the idea of his sharing the bed of Legolas, then it had to mean that Thorin’s insults when they had last been together hadn’t changed his feelings.

It was his chance, his one chance.

And Thorin wasn’t a dwarf who missed his chances.

Taking the few steps that separated him from Ori, the librarian took the younger dwarf’s hand in his. The king allowed it, but there was more fear than anything else in his eyes.

“We need to talk about that day,” he started, and instantly Ori tensed. Thorin quickly continued. “No, do not... I am not going to offer any new insult, quite the opposite. That day, I was angry and I felt betrayed beyond what words can express, but...”

He cut himself when the door opened, and Legolas and his servant entered. At any other moment, Thorin might have noticed that the prince’s braids were now in a pitiful state, but all his attention was on Ori who had quickly withdrawn his hand and taken a step to the side before forcing upon his face a polite smile.

“My apologies for making you wait, your majesty,” Legolas chirped happily. “I am afraid I did not expect you, or I would have arranged my afternoon otherwise. Master Thorin, I am afraid our plans need to change, much to my regret. I’m sure we could all have had such a lovely time... and yet, I must now ask you to leave. Gimli will be waiting for you.”

“Then so be it,” Thorin replied with a strained smile. “I thank you for your hospitality here.” He turned to Ori then, but the king refused to look at him. “Your majesty, it was an honour and a pleasure to see you again. I... hope we will have the occasion to talk again. You... are always more than welcome in the library, of course.”

That should have gotten him a reaction. After their last parting, an open invitation to come back _should_ have brought a reaction, but instead Ori only nodded, still refusing to look at him.

At least, he’d done what he could for the time being, Thorin decided, and it was but a first step. He would have to tell Dis about it, and see how that worked in her plan, whatever it was.

And maybe he wouldn’t mind it so much next time Oin asked him to babysit, not if it could mean a chance, small as it was, to see Ori and talk to him.

 


	12. a gift for your, brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Ori's humble opinion, parties are no fun and shouldn't be allowed to exist

The celebration for his coronation’s anniversary went as well as could be expected, of course. The ceremonies were perfect, there wasn’t a single false step, and Ori could see that his mother and brothers looked proud of him.

Later, once night had fallen, the party began. Everyone had a great deal of fun, it seemed, and there was good food and drinks and music, people sang and danced, and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves terribly.

Everyone but Ori.

Who felt miserable.

Because he was seated next to Legolas (whose father had fallen sick and hadn’t been able to attend)(Ori had asked his mother why he couldn’t fall ill too, and Ari had replied it was because _he_ had a sense of duty, even if Thranduil didn’t).

Legolas who looked gloriously happy, and that was enough to ensure that Ori wasn’t. Not after he’d found Thorin in the prince’s own house in Erebor, having made plans to have a lovely time, the elf had said it himself. And it hurt, to know that the dwarf he loved, his One, the most wonderful dwarf in all of Erebor, in all of the world even, had already replaced him, but so was it. Ori knew he deserved no better, not after he had hurt the two dwarves he’d loved in his life.

It was for the best, anyway. He was a king. He had a duty to his people,and could not afford to be distracted by anything in servir Erebor. Everyone had complimented him for his intense involvement in the business of the kingdom since he’d... stopped seeing Thorin. Usually such compliments were followed by ‘but you shouldn’t overwork yourself’ of course, but that part he didn’t listen to.

Overworking was the only thing he could do.

“Would it hurt you to smile a bit?” Nori growled behind him after a while. “This is your bloody party, pretend you’re happy, will you?”

“What will it change?”

“It’ll change that everyone at the council is already wondering what’s the matter with you these days, but if you keep this up, it’s the entire kingdom that’ll know something’s wrong.”

Ori shrugged. “Well, they all think I’m a weak king already, so, you know, it’s not like their opinion of me can really get worse than that, can it?”

“You’re not a weak king, and no one thinks that you are. But we do think that you’re going through a bad time, kid, and we all want to help. So me and a friend or two, we’ve got a surprise for you.”

The young cringed. That didn’t sound good.

“Will this be anything like the surprise birthday present for when I turned seventy? Because I’m not sure I want it, if that’s the case.”

It was a day of his life he was trying hard to forget, and the entire reason why he would never again eat cherries.

Nori looked offended. “Will I never be forgiven for something that I did with the best intentions in the world? It’s not my fault this went wrong. And no, this surprise isn’t at all like your birthday present. I promise that you will like this surprise.”

“Ah, well... I suppose I don’t really have a choice anyway, do I?”

“Not the beginning of one, no. Now smile a little, kid, talk to people, make a good impression, and I promise than if you’re good, in one hour I’m getting you out of here. How does that sound to you?”

It sounded like a fair, honest deal. Which probably meant that it wasn’t at all, knowing Nori, but Ori felt desperate enough to agree anyway. He’d have done worse than making a deal with his brother to finally get away from Legolas and his insufferable good mood.

Nori held his part of the deal, of course. After one hour of Ori being polite to everyone and pretending to be having great fun, his brother suddenly came to him and, claiming to have important matter to discuss with him right away, he took him outside. Their mother glared at them, and Dori rolled his eyes, despairing of his brothers, but no one else seemed to mind.

“Time for your surprise, kid. It's waiting in your bedroom, and it's got a pretty bow on it.”

“I have no idea how that sounds to you, No, but so far this looks just as bad as my birthday present. Can't I just go to bed?”

“If you do it well, yes, but I'd rather not think about it, thanks.”

“What?”

“You'll see when we get there, kid, you'll see when we get there.”

Suspicion rose inside Ori, but his curiosity was even greater. Nori had that light in his eyes, and that little half-hidden smirk, the one that meant he was proud of himself, and that he was feeling even more clever than usual (and he was _very_ clever indeed even at normal times). The younger wondered what his brother had done this time, and how much he'd regret not staying at the party... or how much he'd be glad he had left. Nori's ideas were good ones sometimes, after all.

But not this one.

This one was a dreadfully bad idea.

Because when Ori entered his room, laughing and half pushed inside by Nori, he saw a dwarf sitting on his bed. A dwarf with his hands tied by an enormous golden bow.

Thorin.

Nori had kidnapped Thorin, tied him, and put him on his bed.

The young king turned toward his brother, wanting to beg for an explanation, but before he could say a word Nori winked at him and quickly got out of the room, closing the door behind him and... Mahal, had he locked the bloody thing? Since when did the door of his room lock from the outside? Oh, he was going to kill Nori, if he didn't die of sheer shame first.

What had Nori been _thinking_?

 

* * *

 

Thorin had felt the bow was a bit much, maybe, but Dis and lord Nori had insisted, claiming that it would give the whole thing a more festive air. He felt pretty sure they just wanted to have a good laugh at him, but he agreed nonetheless. He didn't have much of a choice, anyway since, as they liked to remind him, this was their plan, and he was the one that had fucked up in the first place, so he could only wait patiently and obey.

Still, he wished he'd had his hands free, and a book to keep himself busy. The two idiots had brought him here in the middle of the afternoon, it was night already, and he was getting bored. Or at least, he'd have been bored if he hadn't been nervous. The more time passed, the less this seemed like a good idea. Any idea that came from Dis had to be a bad idea, and the fact that lord Nori had approved of it, helped even, didn't make it better, quite the opposite.

But when at last the door opened and Ori came in, all his doubts disappeared. This was a terrible idea, but it was also his one chance of making things right again, and he'd be stupid not to grab it.

He just wished lord Nori had been less _theatrical_ about it, really. Locking them inside? Mahal, that sounded like something straight out of one of Kili's cheap sagas.

But he had little time to think on how the king's Shadow was nothing but a repressed actor, because as soon as the door closed, Ori ran to him, looking utterly panicked.

“I must apologize for my brother's actions!” the lad whispered quickly as he fought to undo the bow. “I swear.... I swear I had no idea that he'd done this, you must believe me! I'd never... I know I've done little to make you trust me, but I'd never ask to have you brought to me like this, not after you asked to never see me again!”

“It's fine, really. No harm done.”

“Oh, but yes, there is harm done! Oh please Thorin, I swear, I'd never... that'd be abusing my power, I swear I'd never, I wouldn't dare, I don't know why Nori thought this was a good idea, I... Oh, I am sorry, I am so sorry!”

“Ori, it's fine,” Thorin repeated, growing worried. “I agreed to this.”

“It's my fault of course,” the young king sighed, struggling with the bow (which was probably the exact reason why lord Nori had taken such a long time tying it, now that Thorin thought of it). “I should have... I should have been more careful, I should have acted as if it didn't affect me. I tried to! Mahal, I've done enough wrong in this business, I didn't want to worry anyone on top of it all, but I... I... it was so hard after... Not that I'll blame you! This whole thing is my fault and mine alone, and I promise...”

“Ori, calm down. It's fine. I _asked_ Nori to do this.”

That, at last, managed to catch the younger dwarf's attention, and he let go of the bow to look at Thorin's face.

“I didn't ask to be tied,” the librarian clarified. “But what I did want was to be given a chance to talk to you, in private, and your brother was kind enough to agree to this.”

“You wanted to talk to me? But why...”

“Because I owed you an apology. I was... unfair to you that day. Learning the truth made me furious, I will no deny it, but I should have given you a chance to explain yourself. Instead, I attacked you, and spoke to you in ways that I knew would hurt you, and or this I am sorry.”

For a few second, Thorin could see relief on the other dwarf's face, as well as hope, but it didn't last. In the wink of an eye, Ori looked once again as worried as before, perhaps even more.

“If... If Nori is making you say this somehow... you don't have to, you know. You don't have to force yourself to be kind. I deserved your anger, and I don't know what my brother told you, but you don't have to force yourself...”

“It would take more than your brother to force myself to do something I don't wish to do. You must trust me on this, Ori. I... I have missed you terribly since that day, and I would ask you for a second chance, but only if you can _trust_ me this time around.”

Ori gasped, blushing and staring at him with wide eyes and Mahal, but Thorin wanted to kiss him. He didn't though, resisting the temptation and giving the lad time to process what he'd said.

“I... I'd want to,” the young king whisper. “But you... Legolas... won't he... You were at his house, the other day.”

“Ah, yes. Legolas. He probably wished I weren't there that day, but since Gimli is _still_ fairly young, we have to pretend that they are being good lads, and so they needed a chaperone. I think Oin would be horrified he knew how little I care about his nephew's chastity, but that's his problem, not mine.”

“So you're not...”

“I have a thing for pretty blonds with nice eyes and a kind smile,” Thorin admitted, “but I usually like them to be around my size, or smaller. And for the sake of clarity, yes, I am describing _you_.”

That got him a snigger from the young king, and the librarian took it as a good sign. Ori seemed slightly less tense. Not quite relaxed yet (but then, when was he ever relaxed anyway?) but he no longer looked like he'd be running away if the door wasn't locked, and that was progress.

“I am serious, though,” he insisted. “I want to know if we can give ourselves another chance, this time without secrets. I loved you then, and I love you now.”

“Even though I... I lied to you?” Ori asked, and Thorin nodded. “I didn't want to lie, you know, I swear I didn't. But I didn't know how to tell you, and I... I was so terrified you'd change if you knew, and I didn't want that, I liked the way things were. I mean, I didn't like having to lie to you of course! But I... I liked all the rest of it...”

Thorin nodded again. That was something they would have to work on, Ori's fears. It had always been of course, but this time around, he understood where they came from, and he'd know what he was fighting against. He would not let the lad live in terror for the rest of his life.

“I won't change, Ori, I promise that. I have always been frank with you, and I will strive to remain so, because that is the least you deserve. I will tell you when things are wrong... just as I will tell you when they are right. You'll have to trust that I'm being honest with you, though. Can you trust me?”

The younger dwarf took a moment to think about it.

“I... I'll do my best to trust you,” he promised. “It's not... it's not that I don't trust you it's just I... I want to really, but it's hard sometimes, because I know that... well, trusting people is always a risk, and it's... it's not always worked out well for me, but I... I'll trust you, I swear I'll trust! Just... don't get angry at me if sometimes it's... If I have doubts sometimes?”

“Everyone has doubts sometimes, Ori. That's part of life. And I'll do my best to deserve your trust, but you must also tell me if you think there is something wrong.”

“I... I will! So does... does it mean we're... we're fine now, aren't we?”

“We are indeed,” Thorin chuckled, and he was pleased to see Ori smile, that bright, wide smiled that he'd missed so much over the past few weeks.

“Does it mean I can kiss you now?” the younger dwarf asked. “Because I want to. Very much. It's fine if you don't want to, of course! Just, if you want to, then I want it too.”

“Only if you can untie me first,” the librarian answered. “Your brother really has a strange idea of fun.”

Ori laughed, and Thorin found he had missed that too.

“Oh, you don't know just how weird Nori's sense of fun is! But the knot is to tight, I'll have to cut it... just wait a minute, I've got a dagger under the pillow.”

The way the lad climbed onto his bed and reached for the blade he kept hidden there wasn't particularly graceful, but his enthusiasm was quite sweet. Still, Thorin wondered for a moment what sort of person slept with a dagger, until the answer hit him: the people who slept with weapons were those who expected they might have to use them. That was another thing they'd have to talk about one day, he supposed.

But that would wait, because Ori had found his blade and held it triumphantly before quickly cutting through the golden fabric that tied Thorin's hands together. And before the librarian could even massage his wrists, he found himself with a armful of king, the young dwarf having thrown away his dagger and jumped on his lap to kiss him.

And oh, Thorin had missed that too. He'd almost forgotten how right it felt to be with Ori, to kiss him, hold him, touch him, to be breathless in his arms. He didn't know how he had managed to survive without it all these weeks, how he had convinced himself he could live the rest of his life without it.

It had been a mistake, a terrible, huge mistake, and one he would never make again.

Because he was Ori's.

Because Ori was his.

And nothing else in the world mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter thinking it was the last, and that there wouldn't be more than an epilogue after it... but as I wrote it, I realized I probably had room for more stories in that verse... So I don't really know what I'll do now.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed the ride until now!:D


	13. meeting the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori's mother would like to meet his boyfriend this time, thank you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not too happy with this one, but I suppose these two deserved some fluffiness after all they've gone through?

“So, when do I meet your friend Thorin?” Ari asked one afternoon.

And of course, she had waited for Ori to be drinking to ask that, meaning he spit half of it on his tunic in what would probably have been a very comical manner if he hadn’t been the one living it.

“I’m very cross I didn’t get to meet him the first time around,” his mother continued, glaring at him. “I can’t believe I wouldn’t have known about him if I hadn’t force Nori to tell me when you started looking so sad a few weeks ago!”

“Nori’s a traitor,” the young king hissed.

“My darling, you might be his king and employer, but I am your mother and his. There’s nothing about you he can keep from me if I’ve decided to learn it. And you are avoiding my question. When do I meet this Thorin?”

Ori blushed. _Never_ was what he wanted to scream. Thorin was closer in age to his mother than to him, and she’d notice it, and she wouldn’t like it. And she wouldn’t like either that he’d been dismissed from the guards, that he was a commoner, and just a librarian at that, and that his sister was unmarried, and that Thorin, lovely as he was, didn’t do much better than Ori around other people. She would hate Thorin, the way she had hated most people who had tried to court Ori or Dori in the past, and they’d have an argument, and it would be dreadful, and he couldn’t lose Thorin, not when he’d just had him back, but he couldn’t disappoint his mother either...

“I don’t know mother, it’s... we’re all so very busy, it might be hard to...”

“I’m sure we’ll manage. How about I send him an invitation? Tomorrow afternoon, maybe. You’re supposed to meet the master of the smiths’ Guild, but Dori will be more than happy to take care of it. Yes, I’m sending a letter this instant.”

“Mother, I don’t know if...”

She looked at him then, suddenly far too serious for his tastes.

“This thing between the two of you is serious, isn’t it?” she asked, frowning.

“Oh course! I... I love him!”

“And you are intending to treat him honourably this time around, don’t you?”

“Well, y-yes...”

“Then I must meet him,” Ari decided, rising from her chair. “Now let’s go write this invitation. Oh, I simply can’t wait to meet him!”

And she was gone before Ori could stop her.

This was going to be a disaster, he thought grimly.

Two weeks. He’d have had just two weeks with Thorin before everything went bad again, and that was not enough, not at all.

 

Except it wasn’t a disaster.  
Ari didn’t hate Thorin.  
She adored him.

Somehow, it was even worse than if she had disliked him, because after the first few moments of awkwardness with the librarian sitting far too straight next to Ori, Ari and Thorin had gotten along so _well_. Chatting and joking as if they were all friends, sharing anecdotes on court members and talking about their respective families. It turned out that Ari knew Fili, because he’d done a few things for her and had been terribly polite and well behaved the whole time, and she also knew Dis who, apparently, worked with Nori often, and not just to force their respective brothers to get back together.

“A lovely person,” Ari claimed. “She has a very strong personality, very determined, isn’t she?”

“That is one way of saying it,” Thorin admitted, sharing a look with Ori who stifled a giggle.

They rarely used a word as polite as _determined_ to talk of Dis between them.

Starting to relax a little at last, the young king took his lover’s hand. Everything was going well. Everything was going very well.

It couldn’t last.

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand about you two,” Ari said, smiling at them. “Nori told me that you’d... stopped seeing each other for a while, but he didn’t say why. He seemed to think this was not my business. Now, mister Thorin, you seem like a good dwarf, and I like you far better than anyone who has tried to catch my son’s interest before, but I have to know: is it likely that the two of you will fall apart like this again? And please, do try to be honest, I’d appreciate it.”

Ori tensed. A part of him was grateful that Nori had managed to keep that part of the story secret, but at the same time he didn’t want to have to explain to his mother that he had lied to his lover. She’d be so disappointed in him, because what he’d done had been against everything she’d always taught him, and...

“We will try our best to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Thorin claimed, squeezing Ori’s hand as if he were afraid the young dwarf would disappear otherwise. “We have made mistakes, both of us... but we won’t make the same ones now. We have both learned from what happened, and we’ll do better now. I will not lose Ori again.”

It took all of the young king’s self control to not kiss his lover right there and then. They had established some rules, most of them about communication, and Thorin had made it very clear that he had missed him terribly during their time apart. But it still made him happy to be reminded that things were different this time, that they were right, that Thorin loved him dearly in spite of who he was.

Ari looked at them, and smiled.

“That’s good news, very good news. Being in love with royalty is never easy of course, but... yes, I’m sure you’ll manage, mister Thorin. And this one needs someone to remind him he needs to take a break sometimes. He’s worse than his father for that, so I’m counting on you to make sure he eats and... _sleeps_.”

“ _Mother_!”

The queen smiled innocently. “What did I say? I didn’t say _anything_. But now, let’s get to the real question, my boys: when do you intend to marry?”

The young king gasped and blushed, and Thorin choked on a biscuit.

“Parts of me wish we could do it right away of course,” Ari sighed, ignoring their reactions, “but that would be difficult. We’ve just had this huge party for your coronation, and anyway it wouldn’t be proper to have the wedding too fast. Next year, maybe? In the summer... Call me elvish if you want, but I’ve always loved a wedding with flowers, and it’ll be much easier for the feast. And it’ll be easier to get Thranduil to come, it’s always hot in summer in his bloody forest, he’ll be more than happy to get some fresh air here... what do you boys say about that?”

“W-w-we haven’t really t-talked about that yet,” Ori explained, not daring to look at Thorin. “I mean, I mean, I mean, I’d be _more than happy to_... but I don’t want to... I won’t put any pressure on anyone, and with all that has happened, and the fact that we’re only just back together, and I don’t want to pressure Thorin, it’s probably better to take some time to think about it, and...”

“I’d gladly marry you,” Thorin cut him. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

This time, the young king didn’t even pretend to have any self-control, and he grabbed Thorin’s head to pull him into a kiss.

Who needed self-control when the most wonderful dwarf in the history of dwarvishness wanted to _marry you_?

“Yes, a summer wedding will do nicely,” Ari decided, making a point of _not_ looking at them. “I’ll tell Dori. He’ll be more than glad to organize all of that, old mother hen that he is.”

She finally looked at them, and grinned, but Ori didn’t care.

He was happier than he had ever been in his life, and not even the idea of letting Dori organize his wedding could ruin that.

 


End file.
